


Limitless

by Ookami_Hime



Series: Not the Standard Unit [4]
Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Porn, Angst with a Happy Ending, Child Death, Choking, Come Eating, Cunnilingus, Daddy Kink, Dissociation, Dom/sub Undertones, F/F, F/M, Foursome - F/F/M/M, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Jealousy, M/M, Marriage of Convenience, Past Rape/Non-con, Peggy Carter as Captain America, Quinn Hayden as the Winter Soldier, Steve Rogers as the Winter Soldier, Subspace, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Victim Blaming, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-13 22:37:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 53,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7988683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ookami_Hime/pseuds/Ookami_Hime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"I seem to have loved you in numberless forms, numberless times...</i><br/><i>In life after life, in age after age, forever." <b>-- Rabindranath Tagore</b></i><br/> </p><p>Or, a collection of AU's and prompts from Tumblr that the author got way too out of hand with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Peggy Carter as Captain America

**Author's Note:**

> Someone commented that they wanted me to make a collection of the answered prompts from Tumblr and I told myself I would. When I slowly but surely started losing control of the Peggy!Cap prompt someone sent me, I decided I'd just use that to break out this story in style. Legit, the name of this prompt in my Microsoft Word is this got away from me.docx.
> 
> This chapter is actually a mix of two different prompts and I'm so sorry that I'm answering them so late to whoever sent them! As you'll see, this really, **really** got out of hand.
> 
> (1) _Winter solider Steve! is my jam at moment but I love Bucky and Quinn as the winter solider and ferin? (I think I'd spelt that wrong) and dispite the impossibility of it happening can we have all three of them as hydras weapons coz I wanna see that dynamic just think Peggy could have took up the mantle captain America!_  
>  (2) _Bucky/Peggy/Steve/Quinn smut because after reading an earlier prompt I need it like I need to breath_

The three of them were born to the darkness—or so they've been told over and over. If any of them didn't shut up and accept that as a truth, the other two were punished to make sure the lesson stuck. Besides, none of them can remember a time they ran free under the sun, so why bother to deny it? Admittedly, they could've been people in the past but their memories were viciously burned out of them...and _that_ poses another question. It doesn't matter how many times the three of them are thrown into that damned chair, they could be turned into a useless lump that can't do more than drool into the carpet but they would know each other. Many times, Fenrir's never been able to remember her own name, but she'll trust her Sun and Moon always. 

Ever since she can remember—which isn't worth much—the masters have told her that she's an animal, that she's a _wolf_ , but even wolves have packs. How does a wolf know who is pack and who isn't? Maybe the trust is instinct, maybe written into her bones, and she couldn't not trust them even if they were told to put her down. Without a doubt, she would roll over and bare her throat if that ever happened. 

They never wake up in the same base twice and the men in this one are either too impatient or too stupid because none of them are thrown into the chair when they come out of the ice, so it's been some time since they were wiped—that's the only explanation for why the memories start to come back. The memories are more like pieces of a shattered mirror and there are nowhere near enough to let her see the reflection, but she _knows_ that she was a human before. _The three of them were humans once before_ and maybe she could handle the nasty truth of what they turned her into, but they tore apart her Sun and Moon and she'll make them pay. 

When the sun in the sky has barely started to peek over the horizon, when the time for the handlers to come pick them up nears, Fenrir stands in front of the window that stretches across the lavish room and she waits. When her Sun and her Moon start to stir, she twitches but keeps her eyes set on Moscow, stuck inside her mess of a brain. 

"Come back to bed," her Sun moans and she turns her head to the side to watch him out of the corner of her eye. He stretches, sinful and fluid, and shoves his face into the pillow before he settles. It's meant to tempt her and their Moon certainly is enchanted if the way he leans up on an elbow and runs a metal hand across their Sun's back says much. 

Fenrir, however, can't be swayed. There's a new mission that she _has_ to complete—their lives depend on it. Quietly, she asks, "Do you trust me?" And she makes no move to head back over to them. 

Tension builds in the room and she knows that the two of them stare at one another, have a wordless conversation, and she hears one of them slide out of bed. It isn't until a cold metal hand brushes across her shoulders, settle on her hip, and a kiss is pressed to her scarred temple that she knows it's her Moon. "You know we do." 

Fenrir whirls around, suddenly desperate, and clutches at his wrist. "Why?" The Sun slowly makes his way out of bed and the two of them are cautious, wary, and that upsets her. Still, she presses on with, "Why do you trust me? When they've wiped us clean, when we can't even remember our own names, _why do you trust me_?" She hopes that it can trigger... _something_ in them, but there are only blank stares. She makes a sorrowful noise. "You don't know the answer." 

"But you do?" The Sun assumes and, at the very least, they're willing to listen. 

Maybe...maybe there's another way she can make them remember. She reaches out to take a hand from each of them and presses them to the dark American names etched into her skin. "Because we are one," she answers. "These are you." Then, she points to the Moon's legs and taps the Sun's shoulders to motion toward their own marks. "And I am here," she adds. "We were _people_ before they made us things." 

"You remember," the Moon breathes out. "You remember who we were?" 

"Pieces," she admits because she won't lie to them ever. "They turned me into an animal," she hisses. "And then they tore you both down from the sky and put you in this hell." As she reaches up to touch a cheek of them both, she vows, "I'll rip out their throats. I'll make them _pay_ for what they've done to you. I'll show them how much of an animal I can really be." She pauses. "But before I do that, I want to leave and I want you to come with me." 

Without a word, the Sun turns around and starts to pick up their clothes from where they've been scattered across the room. Neither of them need to hear anymore than that to follow her because they've followed her into hell already. Still, her Moon is smart and he tries to come up with a better plan than what she has—which isn't one, she hasn't planned that far ahead yet. "What will we do?" 

"We'll remember," she answers immediately. "And then we can learn to be people." She reaches out to put her hands on both his cheeks and stares into his beautiful eyes. "After that, we can be the people we were meant to be." Because she _knows_ that they were meant to be _more_ than machines and animals. The Moon turns his head to the side and kisses the center of her palm and she beams at him. For the first time in a very, very long time, she hopes. 

 

The three of them only have a month of freedom before they're found, subdued, and shipped back to Siberia. They're kept separated and they scream and howl to be put back with each other while the superiors whisper amongst themselves about what should be done about their act of insubordination. 

The next time that the cells are opened, it's to take them to the room where the chair sits. Quinn thanks God that it's _her_ who is beaten down and then strapped to the chair. She won't let Hydra see her cry— _she won't_ —so she bites down on the rubber they shove in her mouth and stares at her Steve and Bucky. She repeats their names over and over, as if her scrambled mess of a brain can remember after the wipe, and the last she sees before the world whites out is how they thrash and try to break free from where they've been tied down. 

 

They've turned her into no one.  

Dazed, confused, she curls up in the middle of the floor, every nerve alive with sharp pain. Two men are shoved on their knees in front of her and she knows them, doesn't she? As she reaches out to touch their tear-stained cheeks, more men surround her and haul her to her feet. 

It takes time to be hooked into the stasis chamber and she watches the Sun and the Moon try to break free of their chains. There's a hole in her heart because no one should've snatched them down from the skies. Frost slowly starts to spread across her skin and someone hisses, "Fenrir is too dangerous for this world. You will never see her again." 

As the chamber starts to close, _her_ Sun and _her_ Moon promise, "Quinn, we'll come back for you! We will _always_ come back for you!" 

Before she sleeps, all she can think is: _who the hell is Quinn?_  

 

 _-_  

 

In 2010, after Obadiah Stane's death, Tony Stark makes sure to carefully examine each and every record that Stane had ever kept before anyone else can see it and potentially use any other weapon or device Stane could've come up with themselves. He's determined to make up and correct whatever mistakes he let slip past him while his back was turned. 

Peggy Carter's been there for Tony since the day he was born—he's still not sure how someone like her could stand to be around Howard for so many decades, so she has to be a saint—and aside from Pepper and Rhodey, there's no one else he would turn to when he learns that Stane provided suspicious equipment to an unnamed partner.  

The two of them head to Siberia where the equipment had been shipped continuously over the past few decades because not even SHIELD could determine what the purpose of it is. The base reminds her too much of the many she often stormed at the peak of the Cold War, but it's been abandoned for quite some time—or it's only been used to refresh whatever equipment Stane provided. There's a low hum that Peggy can pick up with her enhanced senses and in the very last room at the end of a hall, there's some kind of chamber. 

From inside his armor, Tony's tinny voice breaks the silence with, "There's someone in here." Peggy tries to wipe away enough of the frost to see the person inside, but it's useless. "Barely alive," he adds, looking at the vitals inside his helmet. "It must be some kind of...cryostasis." 

Peggy's brows furrow and she touches the glass again. "Search the base," she orders. "Perhaps we can find something about whoever that wanker Stane's been keeping in here." Tony's laugh echoes in the deathly silent base. 

 

"Fenrir," Tony supplies about an hour later, after he and Peggy have thoroughly trashed the base. "Real active during the Cold War and not on the good side." He tosses some papers onto the floor. "I'd say we leave whoever's in there. They obviously can't do much more damage as a popsicle." 

"Anthony," Peggy chides. "If you'd paid attention to these files, you'd see that this...Fenrir was too much trouble, so they were locked away. Stane must have been supplying the technology to keep this person...frozen—for lack of a better phrase." He shrugs and her frown deepens. "You don't lock up someone that was doing a good job for you." 

Tony snorts. "Or this Fenrir person was _so evil_ that even the bad guys didn't want anything to do with them." 

Peggy sighs and concedes with, "Perhaps, but Stane would've most likely used this person as a weapon. He was too dense to take into account the dangers, as we both know. And if do turn out to be right then I'm sure that you'll very well be able to subdue them." But there's something that tells Peggy he's wrong and her instincts have usually never led her astray. "If this Fenrir is a victim then they should be helped." 

"You're the boss, Aunt Peggy. By the way, if I'm right, I'm never letting you live it down, just so you know." She rolls her eyes and he grins crookedly before his helmet snaps shut. "Alright, J, show me how to crack this thing open." 

After he curses at the, in his opinion, _ancient_ technology, the chamber slowly starts to open, cool air hissing out, and the woman inside finally appears. For a few moments, Peggy's certain that she's in a dream—though a nightmare is more fitting here. Carefully, she reaches out and the tips of her fingers brush over any icy hand. "Oh my God," she whispers and has to cover her mouth in shock and horror when the truly terrifying realization dawns on her. "Oh my God, no." 

"Hold on. Wait. Is this—this isn't who I think it is, is it?" Tony blinks and then squints at the blonde woman in the chamber. "Help me out here, Jarvis.” 

"Running facial scans," the AI responds and then a few moments later, "There is only so much information to be compared with, but by all indications, Mister Stark, this _is_ Nurse Quinn Hayden, declared missing since 1948."  

"I...did not see that coming."  

  

-  

  

"The damage done to her brain is extremely extensive, Missus Carter," a doctor explains to Peggy quietly while the two of them stand outside the hospital room where Quinn is under very heavy sedation. Peggy can't say she's happy about how Quinn is kept, but she can't blame Nicholas for his decision. When Quinn _was_ awake, it...did not end well for many of the people involved. "Her brain was...damaged repeatedly—to keep her compliant, I assume. Although, with the version of the super soldier serum she has, I have to admit that she heals at a remarkable rate." 

Peggy tries to remain as calm as she can, but it's hard to do. "So there's hope then?" For decades, she's blamed herself for how she let Quinn slip away from here—in every sense of the word—and if she has the tiniest chance to have her back, she'll do whatever she can. "That she can return to normal?" 

"Normal is an extremely vague term, ma'am," the doctor shoots back politely. "Could her brain heal? Yes, I have no doubt about that. But...will she go back to being the person you knew her as? Most likely not. Her memories will come back and that includes the emotional and physical trauma inflicted on her. People don't come back the same from that." 

  

-  

  

For _weeks_ , Quinn never speaks a word. It doesn't matter how many therapists or doctors try to coax her into it, she refuses. For the first week, a look at anyone in a lab coat sent her into a panicked frenzy. She's unfortunately picked up the unique talent of being able to fashion a weapon out of whatever's available to her and they had to let her sip soup from a plastic bowl because they didn't put it past her to stab someone in the neck with a plastic spoon. 

As they move into the second week after she's been found, she...somewhat relaxes when Peggy starts to come into her room. Wariness comes off her in waves, but it's progress because at least she'll let someone be around her. After that, rarely does Peggy ever leave her side. The only time she does is to freshen up and even then, she has so many resources at the base that she doesn't have to be too far away from Quinn. 

One day, Peggy takes a chance and quietly questions, "Do you know me?" Quinn's sharp eyes slowly move over to stare at Peggy, but she doesn't speak a word, so Peggy returns to her own silence and her hope takes a serious blow. 

 

When Peggy comes back into the room after she's showered and put on clean clothes, Quinn is on her feet and stands by the door. Peggy startles a bit, but then her eyes widen when Quinn slowly starts to reach a hand out to brush the tips of her fingers across Peggy's cheek. "I know you," she whispers hoarsely and then breathes out, "Peggy." 

Undoubtedly it's a bad move, but Peggy can't help but reach out and wrap her arms around Quinn, clinging desperately. With tears in her eyes, Peggy confesses, "I've missed you, Quinn." She shoves her face into the crook of Quinn's neck and breathes a sigh of relief. "I've missed you _so much_." 

 

- 

 

Quinn won't utter a word about what's happened to her over the decades and it makes Peggy ache on her behalf. Peggy can't imagine the kind of pain and torture Quinn's had to endure, but she's alive and that alone reveals only a fraction of her strength. And she may not talk about what happened to her, but she does start to talk and that's more than enough for Peggy. It's so terribly nice to have someone to reminisce with the old days about. 

Peggy should have expected it would come up sooner or later, but she's still taken by surprise when Quinn questions, out of the blue, "How'd it happen?" She pauses the documentary they're on and she won't meet Peggy's eyes—she has trouble with that, for some reason—but she does elaborate with, "How're you here with me, Peggy?" 

"Howard," Peggy answers on a sigh. Quinn's brows knit together and Peggy continues to explain, "After Project Rebirth, blood was taken from Steve. Most of it went to the American government and they squandered it, I'm sure, but Howard kept his and tried to make his own version of the serum." Peggy's lips purse. "I had no idea until I caught wind of his search for volunteers and—I couldn't bloody well let someone else put themselves on the line because I couldn't control Howard." 

Quinn's eyes narrow. "It wasn't your responsibility to control Howard." She rubs her forehead and groans. "Do you have any idea how much it _hurts_? Why'd you pull a dumb stunt—" she snaps her mouth shut and clenches her jaw before she stares down at her lap. "Sorry," she mutters. 

"There's no need to be," Peggy replies lowly with a fond smile stretching across her lips. "I've rather missed having someone here to question me." She pauses and then blinks as an idea takes shape inside her mind. "Quinn, would you like to move in with me?" Quinn glances over at Peggy incredulously. "What? This place is getting rather dull, isn't it?" 

"Peggy," she drawls slowly. "I'm an _assassin_. _Why_ would you want me to stay with you?" 

"You won't hurt me," Peggy assures her. 

Quinn squints at her. "You never used to pull stunts like this before, did you? No, I _know_ you didn't because you always had to stop _me_ with my bad ideas. What _happened_ to you?" Peggy's smile is only growing and Quinn tries to frown, but there's a spark in her eyes. "You didn't used to be so trusting."  

"Quinn," Peggy starts and reaches a hand out to cover Quinn's own. "I have and will _always_ trust you." 

The freckles on Quinn's cheeks stand out when her skin starts to darken. "You shouldn't," she whispers but turns her hand over so she can clutch Peggy's and a familiar warmth blooms in Peggy's chest. 

 

-  

 

Weeks after they had lost James and Steve, when Peggy had swept Quinn away from her home in Kentucky up to New York for the two weeks before she went back to war, Quinn had the worst trouble with sleep. Quinn had seemed to improve when Peggy went to visit her overseas, but they hadn't exactly spent much time asleep when they'd seen each other then. 

Not even a week passes after Quinn moves in with Peggy before Peggy's woken up by the other woman's screams. It doesn't bother her by any means—she rather expected it would happen with her trauma. Still, she isn't quite so used to...Quinn's violent reaction when Peggy attempts to wake her up. 

"Don't—" Quinn shakes underneath Peggy's hands and Peggy tries not to rub her wrists from where Quinn had clutched them so hard. "I'm sorry," she breathes out. "That...didn't happen in the place—the—the—" 

"Triskelion," Peggy supplies gently. "I knew this would be a possibility when I asked you to stay with me. I'm not bothered." She may be out of place, but she reaches out to brush hair away from Quinn's sweat slick forehead. "Do you want to talk about it?" 

Quinn's eyes roam the apartment, hard and suspicious. "No," she murmurs. "I don't remember," she adds and the way she says it...it's devoid of emotion, as if it's rehearsed, and it takes Peggy by surprise. "I don't remember what it was about. Sorry I woke you." 

"I don't mind." 

Before Peggy can stand up, Quinn's hand slides around her wrist again, but much gentler this time. "Can I...stay in your room?" She drops her hand away quickly, like she's made a mistake. "I don't have to stay _in_ the bed. I...want to make sure you'll—" _be there when I wake up_ , Peggy hears in Quinn's silence. 

"Of course you can." 

Quinn breathes out a relieved, "Thank you." 

There's a nice spot in front of the window that Quinn settles down in when the two of them move back into Peggy's bedroom. At first, Quinn stares out the window—to perhaps let Peggy have a bit of privacy so she'll fall asleep easier—but when Peggy settles back down, she can feel eyes on her back. 

Peggy wants to order Quinn to come to bed with her, but she won't be another person to make Quinn do something she's not comfortable with. Besides, she shouldn't push the boundaries that way. What Quinn and her had in the past should stay there. 

"Goodnight," she tosses out in the dark. 

"Night, Pegs," is what she receives in return and Peggy smiles. 

 

- 

 

Quinn starts to become extremely twitchy as time passes. In the middle of the night, she can actually hear Quinn shuffle around the apartment. Sometimes, Peggy actually catches her in the middle of searching the apartment and she does it many times throughout the day. To Peggy, it seems that Quinn has a serious case of cabin fever—she's changed immensely, but Quinn was always like that, could never stay completely still.  

Finally, when Quinn starts to snap and Peggy's about to go mad herself, she suggests that Quinn come with Peggy on her daily runs. Super soldier she may be, but she needs to stay in shape and it'll be nice to have a decent running partner, someone that can keep up and pose a physical challenge. 

The change in Quinn is immediate—well, it seems to be, but when they return to the apartment, Quinn's back on edge. Perhaps Quinn doesn't like to be contained anymore, it's all that Peggy can come up with. 

One nice, sunny day, in the middle of their run, the pieces come into place when Quinn comes to a complete stop and whispers so low that anyone without enhanced senses wouldn't hear, "It's Hydra." 

Peggy stops in her tracks, drenched in sweat, panting, and she squints at Quinn against the sunlight. "What?" She knows what Quinn said, but she has no idea what she means. 

Quinn shoves a hand into her pocket and when she pulls it back out, there are pieces of a crushed device in her palm. Peggy takes a closer look at the machinery and realizes with growing dread that it's an audio surveillance device. "Hydra never died," Quinn whispers hoarsely. "I couldn't say anything at—" she waves a hand in the general direction of their apartment. "There's more of them and I hate it, but they can't know that I remember." 

"Quinn," Peggy starts and feels...desperate to come up with another reason for the equipment. "It's most likely Nicholas who put those there. He's a very smart man. I have no doubt he bugged the apartment to keep an eye on us both." 

"He could be compromised. I haven't been active in decades, so I wouldn't know any of the new faces. I can't be sure who's compromised, who isn't, but I _do_ know Hydra never died." Her lips purse. "You know I'd never lie to you." 

Peggy shakes her head. She can't believe it—she _won't_. "Quinn, no, I've been with SHIELD since the very beginning. _We created it_. You were there, a bit, don't you remember? How in the world could Hydra have possibly—" she stops and can feel the color drain from her face. 

Quinn gently points out that, "I told you Zola'd stab you in the back." Though she has every reason to be, she isn't vindictive about being right all these years later. Peggy wishes she'd listened to Quinn the first time and put a bullet in that little monster's head. "Peggy." Quinn takes a deep breath, exhales, and then drops another horrible fact. "They have Steve and Bucky, too." 

"Bloody hell," Peggy snarls under her breath.  

  

  

Peggy has absolutely no idea who to trust now, but she'll always trust Anthony, so he's the first person she heads to for help. He'll hack into SHIELD and see if there are any sort of records that could indicate who is and isn't Hydra, but even for him, it could take a lot of time to dig that deep. Quinn, in the very first show of the person she used to be aside from her accent, wants to storm the castle then and there and Peggy, affectionately, reminds her that they need to be smart about this. 

So, there's not much more that they can do except wait until the opportune time to strike after they have a suitable army to stand up to Hydra. In the meantime, they decide Quinn should play her amnesia card as well as she can—which is quite well, actually—and she smartly refuses therapy sessions. Until they know who in SHIELD they can trust, Quinn is too terrified to be left alone with someone without a person she trusts in the room. 

Late, one night, Quinn closes the gap between them a bit more because she crawls into bed with Peggy in the middle of the night. "I can't trust my own mind," she confesses shakily and buries her face into the crook of Peggy's neck. "Who knows what someone with the right words could make me do." Peggy wraps her arms around Quinn and holds on as tightly as she can while she kisses the top of Quinn's head. "I don't ever want to be a wild animal again." 

  

-  

  

For nearly a year, the two of them make it in the world without a hitch...until the bloody aliens come and try to tear New York apart. Obviously, since Zola manage to restart Hydra in SHIELD under her nose, Peggy's gut has misled her from time to time, but she believes she can trust Nicholas. When he comes to her, in need of help with Loki, she doesn't think twice when she says yes. Stubbornly, Quinn refuses to stay behind and comes with Peggy. 

When the actual alien army attacks, they do quite well, Peggy and Quinn, but then Quinn's very badly wounded—so badly, in fact, that she's in need of a hospital. SHIELD's in the extremely long process of making Quinn a legal citizen again, but without a next of kin—the fool won't reach out to her little brother, too ashamed of what she's done—Peggy's not allowed inside the room with her. Thankfully, Quinn's kept under sedation the whole time and Peggy's quite sure no one can brainwash her if she's not conscious. 

"This won't do," Peggy snaps hotly while she paces around the room, a groggy Quinn watching her every movement. "What if this happens again? We won't be so luck every time, especially when SHIELD recovers after this whole alien business." She puts her hands on her hips and turns to stare down Quinn. "We need to get married."  

Quinn's eyes widen comically—she may still be under the influence of heavy narcotics. "We can do that?" Then, she beams at Peggy, brighter than Peggy's ever since this side of the century. To see that on her face, it makes Peggy's heart melt, yes, but it also assures Peggy that Quinn is definitely still under the influence of drugs. "I get to be Missus Carter?"  

"Perhaps Carter-Hayden," Peggy suggest with a laugh.  

  

Once Quinn's actually sober, Peggy poses the question to her again because if they're married then Peggy will have legal rights to be with Quinn in whatever setting they find themselves in. It sometimes astounds Peggy how far the world's come, to think that she could marry Quinn, another woman, in certain places across the country. Some places may refuse to acknowledge their marriage, but not many people can stand up against Peggy's stubbornness too long and she'll somewhat have the law on her side.  

With pink cheeks, Quinn admits, "I wanna...if you'll have me." She ducks her head and Peggy smiles softly. "But...don't do it if you don't want to. You—I can handle it. I'm sure we could get someone we trust to...get rid of the triggers in my brain. That's...doable in this time 'n age, isn't it?"  

"A relief to know you can still be so dense," Peggy comments fondly and leans forward to kiss Quinn's hot cheeks. "I wish you understood how much it hurt me to see you walk away and not run after you. Then, to have you slip away from me and to not _search harder_ —" she closes her eyes briefly and then opens them to look into Quinn's warm, steel blue. "Despite how many years have passed between then and now, don't you know that I'd love you?" 

"But I—I'm not—" Quinn's eyes drop and she huffs in frustration at her inability to articulate herself better. "I've done things, Peggy, and don't say that you have too. You ain't. You haven't done nowhere _near_ as terrible as me." She shakes her head and starts to pull away. "How can you want me that way? I'm a rabid—" 

Peggy shushes her immediately. "You're _not_ an animal. You're a _victim_. You had no choice in what you did." She reaches out to wrap her hands around Quinn's. "We're the two of us completely different people from what we used to be, but I love who you now as much as I loved you then." 

Quinn visibly squirms and it makes Peggy chuckle lowly. Seventy years later and she does no better with someone admitting how much they care about her. "Oh," she breathes out then raises her head up, stares into Peggy's eyes, and meekly requests, "Can I kiss you, Pegs?"  

"Yes, Quinn, you can," and Quinn does.  

  

 "I have a question," Peggy starts and watches with a racing heart how Quinn can't stop fiddling with the wedding band around her finger. "What do we do once we find them?" She tries to keep her tone neutral when she elaborates with, "Steve and James."  

Quinn blinks. "I'd figure we help them get their heads on straight? And kick...uh, what's the word they use these days? Kick neo-Nazi ass?" Peggy snorts but Quinn frowns. "You mean _after_ they remember? I reckon that if they want to—aw, Pegs, you think I'd kick you to the curb? Just like that?"  

"I'm not..." Peggy doesn't know what she can say, so she stops talking altogether. The first time that she and Quinn had slept together, Quinn had been fresh in her grief and Peggy could pretend back then that Quinn wasn't mourning the whole time they were together, but she doesn't want to do that now. Peggy knows her value and she doesn't want to walk in the shadows of two men—no matterr how much she may love everyone involved in the situation. 

"We wanted you in the war," Quinn offers quietly. "I know Steve wanted you since he was a stick and I wanted you since I met you. Steve and me were more 'n happy to ask you if you wanted to...be with us? But we was scared 'cause it wasn't exactly normal and we weren't so sure about how open Buck was to it. Then...everything happened."  

Oh. "Well." Peggy clears her throat and Quinn smiles crookedly at her. "That's nice to know, I suppose."   

  

-  

  

The two of them settle down and make a nice home in D.C. for themselves. Quinn isn't involved in SHIELD and Peggy tries to keep her interaction as limited as possible, but it's a difficult task when one is the former director and a founder. While Peggy's away, Quinn picks up some hobbies and it can be hard at times for her, with the trauma she's dealt with, but...Peggy feels as if Quinn's happier. She's even started to branch out and make friends since Peggy comes home to Quinn and a handsome dark-skinned man seated at the table. 

"Welcome home, Pegs," Quinn greets quietly. Peggy frowns at her wife's red-rimmed eyes and then glances at their visitor with a sharp look. "This is Sam Wilson. He works with the V.A. He checks out, I made sure before I went 'n talked to him." This takes Sam by surprise since he raises his brows at her.  

"That is yet to be determined," Peggy mutters under her breath, not entirely convinced yet.  

"Don't be sore. He didn't do nothin' bad. He...told me that there are—"    

"Support groups," Sam supplies gently.    

Quinn nods. "There are _support groups_ for people that, uh, are—that're taken advantage of." She's never been able to say the word out loud, of what men have done to her, and she has absolutely never talked about it to anyone, but this as close as she's ever come so it takes Peggy by surprise that a complete stranger drew it out. "I don't think I could really be considered a veteran, but he knows some places I could check out."   

"You've seen combat," Sam replies patiently. "I think you'd be able to relate, but I won't push." He stands up and smiles briefly at Peggy then warmly at Quinn. "You know where to find me if you ever need an ear. I'm sure you could still hear what I say when you're passing me by, right? That's possible, isn't it?" 

Quinn doesn't laugh but she does smile shyly. "Thanks, Sam." When he's out the door, Peggy walks over to sit down next to her at the table and takes Quinn's hands. "Sam told me I didn't deserve it _—any_ of it _."_ She pulls her hands away so she can cover her face and Peggy moves so she can rub Quinn's back. "I don't know why it's making me like this. I didn't even meet him until today. I mean, I've teased him when I go runnin', but I never ever said nothin'."  

"Because whenever I say it, you think it's an obligation, that I _have_ to tell you that," Peggy points out softly. "When it comes from a complete stranger, they have no reason to lie to you, so it's a bit more believable." Quinn shakes even harder. "It goes without repeating, but I'll say it as much as you need to hear it, my love—you have _never_ deserved any of the terrible things that have happened to you."  

  

Their happiness can't last, not when Hydra continues to secretly thrive—they'll always try to cause as much chaos as they possibly can. Somehow, they learn that Quinn and Peggy know about them or perhaps someone finally reasoned that Quinn's incredible healing rate meant her memories wouldn't stay hidden forever. No matter the how, Hydra makes their move. Thankfully, Quinn's found some allies in Natasha and Sam and Peggy calls on Maria and Nicholas—when he comes back from the dead, that is. 

They come across James first because the man's keen eye has only sharpened under Hydra and Quinn comes back empty-handed after she chased him on the rooftops. "Next time, they'll both be there, I know it," she explains to Peggy when they're undercover and on the run. "Guess they think I can't take them both on myself." 

"They obviously don't know you well, do they?" Quinn smiles a little and it's so nice to see on her face that Peggy leans forward to brush her lips across her wife's. "Still, I suppose it evens the odds a bit since it's you _and_ me." 

 

Perhaps the masks don't make it as real, perhaps she can pretend that they aren't who Quinn says they are, but when a mask clatters onto the concrete and Peggy watches James glance over his shoulder at them, it's a blow more powerful than any punch someone could deal to her. "Bucky," Quinn breathes out from beside Peggy. 

"Who the hell is Bucky?" 

  

As a founder of SHIELD, she has her perks, and Hydra _needs_ to be exposed, but such a massive data leak can only happen with the approval of two alpha-level members. Alexander Pierce isn't likely to cooperate, so it has to be Nicholas and Peggy who make the decision. Quinn has decided that, with Sam's help, she'll tackle the task of the three helicarriers that are about to head up into the skies and massacre countless innocent people—helicarriers, by the way, where Steve and James will undoubtedly be to try and stop her. 

"Absolutely not," Peggy snarls and clutches at Quinn's wrist. "I won't let you face them both on your own. Nicholas and Natasha can deal with Pierce by themselves. Surely the two of them could force him to—"  

Quinn shakes her head and gently removes Peggy's hand from her wrist. "I'm the only person who knows how they fight, how—"  

"—d _eadly_ they are," she interrupts. "We may have reached them before, Quinn, but you know better than anyone else that Hydra's most likely burned away whatever we broke open in them." Perhaps it's cruel, but, "I'd rather lose two men I don't know anymore than you, my love."  

"You didn't know me once," Quinn points out and Peggy knows she's lost this battle. Quinn Carter-Hayden is as stubborn as they come. It's part of her damned charm, unfortunately. "And you didn't give up on me then."  

Peggy quickly gathers Quinn into her arms, clinging as desperately as that first time Quinn had whispered her name when she remembered. "I love you," Quinn declares for the very first time—ever, Peggy realizes, her heart shattering even more—but it sounds so much like a goodbye. "I love you," she repeats one more time then she's gone.  

  

The next time that Peggy sees her, Quinn is beaten, battered, and bruised, unconscious on the bank of the river, but she breathes and her heart continues to beat which is all that Peggy can ask for.  

  

"They remembered," are the first words Quinn croaks when she comes to in the hospital. Peggy has to reach out and brush away the tears that start to roll down her cheeks and Quinn clutches Peggy's hand. "They'll come back to us," she chokes out. "They always come back for me."  

  

Quinn's not able to stay conscious much more after she wakes up the once, not with the insane amount of narcotics the doctors have her on to match her metabolism. Peggy, who's been up and about non-stop since their battle against Hydra, trying to clean up the mess left behind by their defeat, and now runs on fumes, hunches over in a chair next to Quinn's bed and chases after her in sleep. 

When it's much too late for a doctor to make a visit, her head snaps up when she hears the too quiet footsteps in the room with them. She doesn't have a practical weapon on her, but there could be some needles in that biohazardous materials trashcan or she could use her chair if need be. Once she has a decent look at the man in the shadows, she doesn't immediately try and find a weapon, but she isn't calm either. 

"Peggy," Steve's hoarse voice acknowledges and Peggy closes her eyes for a brief moment. It's been such a long, long time. 

"Steve," Peggy greets in turn and moves to her feet, carefully places Quinn's hand down as to not wake her up. "How much do you remember?" 

"When they put her away, we swore we'd come back for her," Steve starts with rather than answer her question directly. "I remember that...the three of us were all each other had and then they put her away and we—we were supposed to _save her,_ not try and kill her." He starts to move toward Quinn and Peggy watches warily as he reaches out to brush hair away from Quinn's face. "I'm sorry we weren't strong enough, Peggy—not until it was too late." 

"It wasn't too late. As you can clearly see, Quinn's here and alive." She pauses and chooses her next words carefully. "I know how barbaric Hydra can be from when I found Quinn. Neither of you could help what's been done to you. I would never blame you for what's happened. But," she says sharply, "you know who she is _now_ , so do _not_ let her see yourself or James unless you're prepared to stay." 

Finally, he looks over at her, face carefully blank. "She'll look."  

"Then make sure you're not found until you're ready to come home," Peggy replies primly.  

He huffs quietly. "Yes, ma'am." 

 

When Quinn's released from the hospital and the two of them head home to their apartment, hand-in-hand, there's a shield in the middle of their bed. Since the last time Peggy saw it, it's been painted red and black. While Quinn steps forward to gently pick it up and examine it, Peggy's cell phone buzzes in her pocket. From an unknown number, there are only two words: _it's collateral_.  

 

At Anthony's new tower, Quinn addresses their ragtime Avengers team. "Hydra named me Fenrir, after the wolf from the Norse myth. Not sure how true it is, but you probably know about it," she nods toward Thor and he raises a brow but remains quiet. "Odin was so afraid of Fenrir's potential for power that he locked Fenrir up in chains. When Fenrir _did_ break free from the chains, Fenrir would swallow up the sun." There's determination written across her face when she explains, "You don't have to do this with us, but we plan to take Hydra down. Before they locked me up and threw away the key, they said I was too dangerous for this world. I'll show them how exactly how goddamned dangerous I am. I'll burn down their world." 

"For the record," Anthony speaks up after a few tense minutes of silence and shoots Peggy a pointed look, "her speeches are _way_ more badass than yours." 

 

When the team lands in Europe, at a Hydra base, Peggy walks down the quinjet's ramp in an uniform extremely similar to Steve's in the war and the newly painted shield is strapped to her back.  

Quinn appears beside her, almost out of thin air it seems, in her own black uniform with a white star on the front, and stares at Peggy with half-lidded eyes. "I ain't gonna lie, Pegs, but I'm really turned on right now." 

"You're _connected to all of us, Hayden_ ," Anthony shrieks over the team's shared comms and both women roll their eyes at him. "Stop trying to take my aunt's honor! Besides, we're on the clock!  Do you not have any kind of work ethic?" 

She makes pretend to whisper, but loudly announces over the radio, "Fine. Hey, how 'bout later we see exactly how nice it looks on the floor. What do yah say, huh?" 

Peggy's laughter almost nearly drowns out Anthony's horrified screams. _Almost_. 

 

- 

 

For nearly a year, the four of them always seem to pass one another up in some manner. Steve and James help out quite a bit on the mission to destroy every inch of Hydra that's left in the world. It makes sense that they would help, what with how much Hydra's stolen from _all_ of them. Some bases are left absolutely devastated before their team shows up.  

Once, they actually do catch a peek of Steve and James and Quinn shouts their names in the middle of the chaos, but Steve takes James by the arm and the two of them disappear. Later, at the hotel, she has to kiss Quinn and hold her when, tearfully, Quinn whispers, "Why don't they wanna come home?"  

When Quinn's asleep, Peggy leaves the hotel to fetch something decent for them to have for breakfast in the morning. On her way to the closest store, she notices that she's being followed, and she darts into a nearby warehouse to face whoever it is head-on. 

To her credit, Peggy doesn't even so much as wince when she's shoved into a wall and a metal fist is slammed through the wall beside her head. "James," she acknowledges curtly. 

"Who do you think you are, Carter?" James snarls lowly 

Peggy cocks her head to the side. "What ever do you mean?" 

James scoffs and pulls his hand out of the wall, chunks of cement dropping onto Peggy's shoulder. "You damn well know what I mean. Who are you to threaten Steve? Who the fuck are you to say that we can't see her? You don't control any of us. If I want to see my _soulmate_ , I'll damn well do it." 

"I don't _want_ to control any of you, especially not Quinn," she shoots back hotly. "However, my main priority is to protect her and I know you mean well, but tell me that you would, without a doubt, stay if you came home to her." Brows furrowed, his mouth opens, and she quickly cuts him off with, "I know you two, believe it or not. You both have bloody martyr complexes and even if Quinn and I have hurt each other with our own damn problems, if that were to happen with either of you, you'd run because you think it'd keep her safe. Tell me that isn't true.” 

"You don't know shit," he growls under his breath but his eyes drop down and she knows he's upset because it's true. 

Still, Peggy doesn't entirely appreciate the hostility from him, so she petulantly decides to hit below the belt. “I won't have you hurt _my wife_ because you scampered off in the middle of the night with your tail between your legs." 

His head snaps up and he stares at her with wide eyes. "Wife—" 

"Yes," Peggy sighs and moves her hand in just the right way so that the light gleams off her wedding band. "The world's changed quite a bit since our time in the war." She crosses her arms over her chest and looks away from him when she says, "I love Quinn and I only want what's best for her. I’ll welcome you both with open arms but only when you can well and truly stay." 

"Four's a crowd, Carter." 

"It doesn't have to be, James." There's not more that can be said between them other than, "At least think about it for Quinn and Steve's sakes." Then, she heads out the door and leaves James alone. 

 

Peggy shouldn't be so surprised to see Steve a week later after she speaks with James, but she is. She's at a quaint little coffee shop after her extremely early run when he drops down in the seat across from her. The purpose of his visit starts to make sense when his eyes immediately drop down to her wedding band—no doubt that James told him the news. 

"Is she happy?" 

"I'd like to think so," Peggy answers and sips at her coffee. "Did you know that we actually only married to make sure I could always be with her if she were to be sent to a hospital? We weren't sure who to trust, you see. I've loved her since the forties, of course, but it was only rekindled _after_ we were married. We're both hopeless." The corner of his mouth turns up a bit and she reaches across the table to touch his hand. "She'd be much happier to have you two with us, as well." She smiles softly. "And _I've_ missed you so much, my darling. Quinn and myself would love to have you come home— _both_ of you, despite how prickly James can be." 

"I'm sure you ain't the easiest to deal with sometimes too, Pegs," he teases her with the tiniest bit of a smile and it makes her heart melt to see that on him. "Or so Buck tries to tell himself, the asshole." 

The smile remains on her face, but she shrugs a shoulder. "I can't blame him. When it comes to you and Quinn, it's extremely hard to want to share." His cheeks start to darken and she resists the urge to sigh like some swooning schoolgirl. "James wasn't up to have a conversation any more than marking his territory, so I'll ask you—are you two well?" 

"Be better if Hydra would take the hint and die already," he drawls, completely Brooklyn, and she chuckles into her cup. "But we're okay. I actually have a confession to make," he blurts and she's surprised. Before, it didn't take a rocket scientist to know when Steve was lying, but that's apparently not true now. "I came here because I'm supposed to be a distraction...so Bucky can talk to Quinn alone." 

Her eyes narrow. "If I find out that he snuck in through the window and ravished my wife like some lecher, James and myself are going to have words." 

Steve laughs nervously. "You weren't around when the three of us were...y'know." He rubs the back of his neck while he meekly admits, "We basically fucked each other like rabbits whenever they sent us out by ourselves. Sorry to say, Peggy, but the decades we spent apart won't exactly help that." 

Peggy takes another sip of her coffee and muses an idea over for a few moments before boldly retorting with, "Well, then I think it's only fair that I whisk you away, isn't it?" 

Steve smirks at her and stands up, actually holds his hand out like it's a dance he wants from her, and she snorts but takes it. She darts across the street with him and heads into a more secluded part of the park that she and Quinn have frequented. It's there that she shoves him against a tree and tugs him down so their lips meet. For a first kiss, it isn't exactly ideal, but she's waited seventy years so she doesn't much mind. She does, however, decide to keep it at kisses alone—she has _some_ patience. Her patience shows when she keeps him with her in that spot for quite some time.  

 

Quinn's there at the door when she comes home and other than how her lips are plumper than usual, there's no indication that she and James were more intimate than kisses. Peggy wouldn't care if they were but she does care that James came to see Quinn when, hurt plain as day on her face, she bursts out with, "You lied to me." 

"James tattled on me? Honestly, how old is he?" Peggy mutters under her breath and Quinn only frowns more. "I warned them to stay away, yes, and I didn't tell you. I'm not sorry about what I did, but I am sorry I lied to you. I only did it because I wanted them to be absolutely certain they'd stay if they came. I didn't want to take the chance to see you hurt if they left." 

Quinn crosses her arms over her chest. "It wasn't your choice to make. This whole time, they could've come back. How many more times did you scare them away?" 

Peggy pinches the bridge of her nose. "Do you realize what you said? They _could have_ come back, any time that they wanted, but they didn't because they knew there was a chance they would walk away. I'm sorry that I wanted to spare you that pain. You don't know how much it hurts to watch someone you love walk away but _I do_." As soon as the words are out of her mouth, she regrets it. 

For once in her life, Quinn snaps her mouth shut and backs down. She heads back toward the bedroom, but then decides otherwise and spins back around. "You've never deserved what I've put on you. I'm sorry that, back then, I chose two dead men over you. It was mean and cruel and you deserved better than that. I'm sorry if it seems like I want them over you now, too. I—” she stops and her eyes widen as if she's had some kind of revelation. "I've _never_ stopped to ask you what you want. Jesus, I didn't realize that 'til now. So, what do you want?" 

"I want what's best for—" 

" _What_ ," Quinn interrupts, "do _you_ want? Do you even wanna be married to me? I put my shit on your shoulders and I wanted to marry you, 'course I did, but have I chained you down all these years? Do you…do you need me to choose between you and them?” 

“No, of course I don't. I would never ask you to make that decision.” No matter how much Hydra tried, they could never rid Quinn over her ridiculously immense capacity for love, so to make her choose would be the worst kind of torture. “I love you so much, Quinn. How could you possibly think the day you took me as your wife wasn't the happiest in my life? It was convenient, I'll admit, but I have never been happier in my life than I am now. I know that I could be even happier to have Steve and James come home to us.” 

Quinn heads back toward Peggy and loops her arms around Peggy’s neck before she presses their lips together for a deep kiss. “You sure about that? Don't sound like you and Buck are too keen about each other,” she points out when she leans away. She starts to press kisses down Peggy’s neck after, nipping and sucking and making heat pool low in Peggy's stomach.  

“He has his charm,” she admits and allows Quinn to start to crowd her back toward the couch. “I'll admit that I haven't been too warm, either.” She tucks her hand under Quinn's chin and tilts it up so she can smile at Quinn warmly. “And even if I truly did hate the man, I would still at least try to make an attempt if it would make you happy.” Into Quinn's mouth, she breathes, “So that you know, as much as I love them, you will always be my dearest love.” 

"Jesus, Pegs,” Quinn groans and crushes their lips together again. “Fuck, please take me to bed. I need you so goddamn bad.” But they don't even make it past the couch.  

 

- 

 

James doesn't look any happier the next time he seeks her out. However, he starts the conversation much more nicely than the last one. “You can't ever understand how much I love them both. They've saved me more times than I could count.” He doesn't look happy when he admits, “But you saved Quinn, too. It probably wasn't easy when you found her, but you never lost faith in her. You took care of her when we couldn't and you don't look like you plan to stop that anytime soon. So…thank you for that.” 

“I can admit that…I secretly may have wanted to keep you away. Like you said before, she's your soulmate. I know I can't truly compete with that and I think I've been intimidated by that since she told me you were both alive,” Peggy finally confesses to someone out loud.  

He shakes his head. “You really don't see it, do you?” She waits for him to enlighten her and he rolls his eyes. “You _are_ her soulmate. She had two already. Are you really about to put it past her stubborn ass that she can't force the universe to let her have another one?” Her mouth opens and then snaps shut. She's utterly speechless. She's not the only one between them that's surprised by that. “Not a word from you? Would you look at that. Guess I haven't lost my touch.” 

“Shut up,” she snaps while her cheeks heat up. “Are we to make a truce then?” 

“Not yet.” He runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “Look, you definitely know Quinn best and, hell, you know Steve, too. You don't know me, though, and I don't know you. If we’re gonna be stuck with each other for the long run, we need to at least have some kind of…attraction between us, right?” 

"And here I'd already made a schedule of what days we would have custody of them.” Peggy rolls her eyes at the scandalized look he responds with. “It was a joke, for heaven’s sake.” 

“Scratch humor off the list of traits you have,” he deadpans and she genuinely laughs.  

 

- 

 

On Peggy and Quinn's wedding anniversary, Steve and James both come home. Steve and Quinn immediately latch onto each other—since it's only James that's seen her between the two of them—Peggy addresses James with a bitchy, “You aren't even married to her and you had to outdo my anniversary present, didn't you?” 

“What can I say? I'm a competitive fella.” 

 

- 

 

A month passes and the four of them remain in the honeymoon phase—or so Anthony has put it and then proceeds to rant about his astonishment over how she and Quinn are the only people who can end up with two honeymoon phases. Admittedly, she thinks Quinn and herself never truly left that phase.  

"You're a dirty liar, Carter," James, over breakfast, argues. 

How the two of them ever ended up on this topic, she has no idea, but she insists, “I swear to you that it's true.” 

"Look, you _know_ how bossy that dame can be, and it's even worse in the bedroom. You honestly think I'll believe you when you say you can make her float like Steve whenever someone orders him around or roughs him up in bed?" 

"Bossy?" Peggy repeats incredulously. "I don't know how she is with you, James, but she's never once been bossy with me." His mouth drops open and she stabs her fork in his direction. "I can show you—after I make sure our schedules are clear. It takes time and patience to make her reach that point, but it _can_ be done." 

“Wait until Steve hears a load of this,” he murmurs before he takes a bite of his pancakes.  

Quinn shuffles into the kitchen and scowls at the both of them. The affect is undermined by her mussed hair and the yawn she does before she snippily asks, “Will y'all ever stop with the dick measuring contest? I ain't no trophy wife." 

"No, of course not. That title belongs to Steve." 

"Lord, y'all are horrible." 

 

Freedom comes at a cost to Quinn and the price is that she has to be in constant control. There's an animal that lurks in the back of her mind, prowls and waits for the tiniest slip of Quinn's control to pounce. Fenrir, much like James and Steve's soldiers, will always be a part of Quinn. So despite what other people may think, Quinn doesn't always want to be in control because it exhausts her. Since her mental health is in a much better place, she allows Peggy—and now Steve and James—to help relieve some of that pressure and Peggy is absolutely honored to have such an incredible amount of trust from Quinn. 

"Eyes on me," Peggy softly demands when she notices the way Quinn's eyes dart to the corner of the room where James sits in a chair, Steve between his legs and they both face her and Quinn. The two men watch with rapt attention and James has to squeeze the back of Steve's neck when he starts to squirm—in excitement, no doubt.  

Quinn closes her eyes for a moment and Peggy doesn't reprimand her for how she doesn't immediately follow the order. As much as she does want to hand over control, it's still very hard for her to do so. So, to help ease the transition, she reminds Quinn that, "You're safe here, my love. I have complete and utter faith in you, but should something happen, there are three of us here who can handle it. We'll also be here when you come back down. If you're ever uncomfortable at any point, what do you say?" 

Thankfully, the reminder causes the tension to finally bleed out of her and Quinn relaxes as she opens her eyes back up to share at Peggy with open adoration. With pink cheeks, Quinn finally answers with a bashful, "Yellow." She's utterly adorable, Peggy notes fondly. "And if I want to stop then and there then I say red." 

"Good," Peggy praises and Quinn ducks her head down shyly. 

Ready to start, Peggy reaches out to cup Quinn's cheeks in her hands and pulls her forward so she can press their lips together. Quinn sighs happily and drapes her arms over Peggy's shoulders before she tries to tug Peggy closer. Peggy moves them around so that it's Quinn whose back is to the bed and shoves. Quinn's had the luxury of laziness today, so she hasn't dressed in more than one of Steve's shirts that ends at her upper thighs and a lacy pair of panties that happens to be one of Peggy's favorites to see Quinn in. Quinn preens a bit and maneuvers around on the mattress to pose sexily.  

“A little presumptuous, weren't you?” Peggy teases as she puts a knee on the bed and reaches down to ghost her fingertips over the hem of said panties, but doesn't pull them down. 

“Who says they're for anyone but me?” Yet, she wiggles her hips around to try and bring Peggy's attention back down. Quinn never did have much patience…or seduction technique. “Maybe I wanted to peacock a little or maybe I wanted to look sexy. You ever think of that?” 

Peggy hums. “You don't need help with that and you know it.” She makes to slide off Quinn's panties but she stops and Quinn whines. “Take off your shirt. Let's see how you look in those and those alone.” While Quinn shimmies out of her shirt, Peggy glances over her shoulder. “Care to come admire the view up close, James? Perhaps I'll even let you participate.” 

“Let me,” he scoffs at the notion as he stands to his feet. Steve makes a move to raise up too, but James grips Steve's shoulder and shoves him back down to sit. “Nope. Sorry, pal, but she didn't say you.” 

Peggy moves herself and Quinn around so that Peggy now leans back on the headboard and has Quinn on her hands and knees in front of her. “You do not come until I tell you to _and_ ,” she shoots James, who comes to kneel behind Quinn, a sharp look, “it would be cruel to force her to break the rule on purpose—unless she thinks she's up to that kind of challenge, of course.” Quinn's enthusiastic nod makes Peggy smile and also makes her proud.  

“What about me?” Steve pouts from the other side of the room.  

James and Peggy share a look. “You can watch,” James decides and Steve only pouts more. “Hey, if you're both good and neither of you come before we say you can then you can have at each other, okay?” Steve is most definitely not happy with how his situation has turned out and James rolls his eyes. “If someone so much as touches you when you're worked up, you shoot off like a bottle rocket and don't say that's not true.” He then tosses out, “Think about how much better it'll be after the wait.” 

“Do keep them on,” Peggy comments when James turns back around and runs a hand down Quinn's back then across her ass. “She does look lovely in them and I'd hate to see them ruined.” Quinn has been running her hands up and down Peggy's thighs as she smartly waits for an order. Peggy suddenly becomes aware of the fact that, “I'm a bit overdressed, aren't I? Hold on.” While Peggy tries to slip out of her own clothes, Quinn leans up to her knees and James takes the chance to wrap his arms around Quinn's waist from behind.  

“ _Moy nezh_ _nyy zver’,_ ” he croons as he peppers kisses across her neck and shoulders. Quinn shivers when his hands move up to cup her breasts and tease her nipples. “You're so sweet for us. You're so beautiful. You're our world.” Quinn, on instinct, opens her mouth to protest her importance to them, and his hand moves up to settle around the base of her throat. The simple action would immediately have Steve pliant and it should warn Quinn, but she apparently wants to be a brat—which isn't exactly new for Quinn.  

“I think we should put that mouth of yours to work,” Peggy suggests and Quinn's eyes darken. “Come here,” she demands and Quinn is back on her hands and knees so she can kiss her way up Peggy's now bare thighs. “The nicer you make mine, the quicker you'll have yours.” 

Quinn moans when she buries her face into Peggy's lap and Peggy likes to think it's because she and Quinn haven't been intimate in quite some time, but it could also be because James has started to touch her. Peggy opens her legs wider to accommodate Quinn who bears down and spreads her own legs wider for James who has probably slipped a finger inside her to start to spread her open for his cock.  

Peggy tuts and cards her fingers through Quinn's straw blonde hair before she tugs to catch Quinn's attention. "Get to work, my love. I'm not certain how long poor Steve can last.” 

Quinn's hands move around to grab Peggy's ass and roughly shove Peggy's cunt toward her face. Her tongue immediately darts to circle Peggy's clit and while that makes Peggy moan, she also cautions, “This is about quality, not speed. You know exactly how to make my toes curl. Good girls aren't rewarded for their impatience.” 

That makes Quinn pause and whimper. She then moves her hands to part Peggy's folds and starts a slow, lazy circle around the bundle of nerves. Rather than a quick explosive burst, she works to light a kindle in Peggy's stomach and slowly fan the flames. “Much better,” Peggy breathes out as she tilts her head back on the headboard and closes her eyes.  

The time will start to bleed, so she's not sure how much time has passed since they started, but she looks down when the pace is interrupted when Quinn slowly slips two fingers into Peggy and leans her mouth away. Quinn works her jaw for a moment which leads Peggy to believe they've been at this for longer than she believed. Quinn moans and rocks back onto the fingers James steadily fucks into her with and moans loudly. Then, she latches her mouth onto one of Peggy's breasts and sucks while the other hand moves to tweak the nipple not in Quinn's mouth. In the midst of this, Quinn starts to fuck her fingers into Peggy's cunt, mimicking the pace that James has set.  

Peggy cradles Quinn's head to her chest, continues to stroke her fingers through the blonde locks, and watches as Quinn moves back and forth between sucking and biting at each of her breasts. The whole time, whenever there's a burst of pleasure that runs across her entire body, Peggy praises Quinn breathlessly. Suddenly, Quinn gasps loudly and Peggy glances up to watch as James slowly slides inside Quinn, head tilted back and groaning in pleasure. Quinn ducks her head down and buries her face into the covers so she can muffle her loud moan of pleasure.  

“Fuck, you feel so good around me, Quinn.” He leans forward to plaster himself across her back and the whisper is low, but they can all hear him. “Goddamn, baby doll, and you're so damn wet.” He shallowly thrusts and Quinn's fists clench in the sheets. “Gettin’ my cock in you is fuckin’ heaven to me.” His hands reach under to squeeze her breasts and she cries out. “I don't know what looks better—you with your head in her lap or when you're stuffed full of my cock.” 

“Fuck,” Peggy curses and knocks her head back on the headboard. Quinn's head has finally dropped back down into Peggy's lap and Quinn licks into Peggy and it says a lot about Quinn's knowledge of Peggy because she's drawn closer and closer to orgasm without even realizing it. “Yes, Quinn, it’s wonderful.” Peggy's fingers move to grab a fistful of Quinn's hair and uses her grip as leverage to slowly start to grind her cunt against Quinn's mouth. “Such a good girl,” Peggy cops and Quinn makes a noise that vibrates into Peggy and there's a fire in her blood. “Do you hear our pleasure? It's all because of you—” Peggy's orgasm slams into her and she tumbles over the edge with a shout.  

Now that Peggy has had hers, James uses his metal hand to grab Quinn's shoulder and tug her up on her knees and back against his chest, the same way they were earlier. Quinn reaches behind her head so she can touch his cheek and force him to turn and meet her mouth for a kiss. He starts his thrusts back up, but he can hear their skin slap together, so she knows that he's reaching deeper to try and hit that spot inside her that's going to make her scream. She won't, though—scream, that is—because her head lolls back on his shoulder and her gaze is starting to become unfocused. Slowly but surely, Quinn's slowly started to float. She must be very emotional or have more pressure built up inside her than she wants to admit because she's never started to float without at least one orgasm.  

James stiffens and groans loudly while he clutches Quinn's hips so hard that there are going to be marks. His hips jerk as he empties himself inside her, riding out his orgasm, switching back and forth between praising her in English and Russian. Quinn sighs in bliss but soon whines when he pulls out of her and leaves her empty. 

"Steve," Peggy speaks up but doesn't look at him because she reaches out to catch Quinn's cheeks in her hands. "Come here," she beckons and smiles at Quinn who shoots her one back. Peggy allows Quinn to stretch out on the bed and put her head in Peggy's lap. "You don't want yours, my love?" she inquires when Quinn starts to kiss her way back toward Peggy's cunt.  

"I wanna make you feel good," Quinn whispers as she locks gazes with Peggy and there is nothing but love and awe in her eyes when Quinn stares at her. "I don't care 'bout me," she slurs.  

"What about poor Steve?" 

Quinn pauses and looks over her shoulder at Steve who has been stopped on his way to the bed by James who has a hand wrapped around Steve's leaking cock. "He can use me like Bucky did," she insists and turns back around to plead, "Peggy, let me have another taste. You know I love how you taste. Please?" 

"I want to see how beautiful you and Steve look with each other," Peggy explains. "James and I will watch you ride him within an inch of his life and then you and Steve can do with us whatever you please." 

Quinn turns back around in time to catch Steve when he crawls onto the bed and captures Quinn's lips in a heated kiss. "You don't want me?" he asks lowly when they separate and one of his big hands drop down to grip her hip and pull her toward him until their groins are pressed together.  

"You know I always want you, _moy solntse_ ," Quinn admits quietly and reaches her hands around to leave scratches down his back. Steve hisses then groans in pleasure. "I want all of you always," she adds sheepishly and he smiles softly down at her. When he kisses her, it's much gentler than before.  

The two of them don't waste time to prepare Quinn since she's open already from James. Quinn rolls them over so that she straddles Steve's waist and sinks down onto his cock with a loud moan. Before she can really start to move, James comes to settle beside Peggy at the headboard and actually leans over to press kisses across her shoulders. Both Steve and Quinn become momentarily distracted by the picture she and James no doubt make. James, happy with the attention, slowly dances the fingertips of his metal hand across her body, lingering on her breasts, and Peggy shivers.  

"You two like somethin' you see?" he croons.  

Peggy turns her head to the side and meets James in the middle for a brief kiss. "It isn't nice to tease when they've both been so good for us." 

He grins against her lips. "Okay, yeah, I'll play nice now." He then nods to Quinn and Steve for them to pick up where they left off.  

Quinn doesn't immediately start to move her hips. Instead, she doubles over to cup Steve's cheeks in her hands and gently slot her lips over his. His hands move around to her back, gliding over her skin and her scars. One of his hands come up and he curls a lock of her blonde hair around his finger while he sweetly tells her, " _Ya lyublyu tebya_." 

"And I love you," she answers.  

"How do you do it?" James questions close to her ear, warm breath fanning out and making her shiver. "How'd you make her go from a pussy cat to a kitten?" 

"I'll enlighten you later," Peggy promises and turns her head so their lips brush. "Now, shut up and let me enjoy the show." 

He huffs. "Yes, ma'am." 

Quinn has started to rock her hips and Steve holds out his hands so she can take them in hers. Quinn rides him slowly, back bowing slightly as she relinquishes herself to her own pleasure. Steve is looking up at her with warmth and love and he tugs his hands away so he can slide them over the dark names scrawled into her skin. Quinn uses her now free hands to slap his away and reach out to pinch his nipples. Eventually, she decides to just lean over and start licking and nipping. Steve squirms and moans breathlessly under her mouth. His hands fly down to cup her ass and she must bite down particularly hard because he hisses and then slaps her ass in retaliation. The pain makes them pick up the pace and Peggy licks her lips as she watches Steve plants his feet onto the bed so he can fuck into her faster and harder.  

When Steve comes, loudly groaning, he surges up so he can crush his lips against Quinn's and she swallows up his noises. Peggy watches as a mixture of James and Steve's come dribbles out of Quinn and down around Steve's cock. James nearly whimpers at the sight and moves forward so he can watch for a moment before he plasters himself against Quinn's back. Steve pulls his momentarily softening cock out of her and James tugs Quinn back to sit in his lap.  

"God, baby doll, look at you," James breathes out and reaches down between her legs to shove the come leaking out of her back in with two fingers. Steve slaps his hand out of the way so he can settle his broad shoulders between Quinn's thighs and proceeds to lick the come out of her. Quinn's hand flies down to fist Steve's hair and her breath hitches higher and higher but she doesn't make more noise than that so she must be very, very close. James holds out his slick fingers and she immediately wraps her lips around them, sucking and licking and driving James wild. "Don't you know how goddamn good you are?" 

Peggy finally crawls over to the three of them and Quinn's shaking under everyone's ministrations. "My good girl," Peggy praises quietly as she leans forward to kiss Quinn tenderly and Quinn screams when she comes. 

 

-

 

Months later, Quinn crawls next to Peggy on the couch while Steve fusses with James to put him in the proper position for Steve to sketch. Quinn presses her lips to Peggy's and Peggy makes a pleased sound in the back of her throat. Peggy reaches down to wrap her hand around Quinn's wrist and tug her forward so Quinn can be in her lap, but Peggy stops short when she feels heated and raised skin around Quinn's wrist.  

“What in the world?” Peggy mutters and tugs Quinn's wrist up to look at it. 

 _Margaret_ _Elizabeth Carter_ has been scrawled onto Quinn's wrist and Peggy stares at it in shock, blinking, attempting to process. It may not look like it's been written in Peggy's own hand, but it's _there_ …on Quinn.  

“Too much?” Quinn asks worriedly.  

“You already have my name and a ring on your finger,” Peggy blurts.  

"That makes me your wife, sure, but…” Quinn looks away and shrugs a shoulder. “I know it really doesn't, but I feel like your name on me makes sure everyone knows you're my soulmate, too.” 

Peggy snatches the front of Quinn's shirt and drags her forward so she can crush their lips together. There are tears in Peggy's eyes when she leans away to choke out, “You are really something else, Quinn Hayden.” 

"Quinn Carter-Hayden," Quinn corrects with a grin.  


	2. PROJECT FENRIR

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys have asked for Quinn as the Winter Soldier and that's what you'll soon be getting in the next chapter! For now, as a little teaser, here's a secret Hydra file that details Fenrir over the decades. >:]  
> Just a heads up for everyone. There is some hinted rape/non-con/"breeding". It's a brief mention but it's still there. Hydra are a bunch of dicks man.

**PROJECT** ~~ **MUTTER**~~ **FENRIR**  

 

 **CASE 17**  

 **OPENED ON:** 15 JANUARY 1948 

 **LEAD RESEARCHER:** DR. ARNIM ZOLA 

 

 

**SUBJECT INFORMATION**  

 

 ****ADDITIONAL INFORMATION ACQUIRED FROM STRATEGIC SCIENTIFIC RESERVE**  

 

 **SUBJECT NAME:** QUINN ESTHER HAYDEN 

 **SUBJECT DATE OF BIRTH:** 21 NOVEMBER 1920 

 **SUBJECT PLACE OF BIRTH:** HAZARD, KENTUCKY, USA 

 **SUBJECT PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION:** FEMALE, 68 KG, 160 CM, BLONDE HAIR, BLUE EYES, SCAR FROM UNKNOWN SOURCE ON LEFT TEMPLE, SCAR FROM BULLET WOUND ON RIGHT SHOULDER, SCAR FROM BULLET WOUND ON LEFT HIP, NAME STEVEN GRANT ROGERS ON RIGHT SIDE OF TORSO, NAME JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES ON LEFT SIDE OF TORSO 

 

> ****NOTE ADDED BY V.G ON 17/08/1948:** SUBJECT'S MARKS HAVE BEEN COMPARED WITH THOSE OF OTHERS WITH CONFIRMED DECEASED SOULMATES; SUBJECT'S MARKS SEEM MORE SIMILAR OF THOSE WITH SOULMATES IN COMAS; FURTHER RESEARCH TO BE DONE 
> 
> ****NOTE ADDED BY V.G ON 04/03/1955:** TEN YEARS SINCE DISAPPEARANCE OF VALKYRIE; NO POSSIBLE WAY THAT CPT. STEVEN ROGERS OR SGT. JAMES ARE ALIVE; SUBJECT OFFICIALLY DECLARED DEFECTIVE 

 

 

 **SUBJECT ACQUIREMENT**   

 

SUBJECT ONLY LIVING RECIPIENT OF EXPERIMENTAL SUPER SOLDIER SERUM CREATED AND ADMINISTERED BY DR. ARNIM ZOLA (A.Z) IN NOVEMBER 1943; AFTER INFILTRATION INTO STRATEGIC SCIENTIFIC RESERVE BY A.Z, SUBJECT DISPLAYED POSSIBLE SIGNS OF ENHANCEMENT; ORDER ISSUED BY A.Z TO RETRIEVE SUBJECT BY ANY MEANS POSSIBLE; ORGANIZED ESCAPE OF FORMER LEVIATHAN OPERATIVE JOHANN FENNHOFF (J.F), S.S.R DIRECTOR MARGARET CARTER FORCED TO REQUEST AID FROM FORMER HOWLING COMMANDOS SQUADRON, INCLUDING SUBJECT; IN THE RESULTING SKIRMISH OF SUBJECT'S TEAM WITH SOVIET OPERATIVES, SUBJECT WAS SUBDUED BY J.F AND TRANSPORTED TO SIBERIAN BASE OF OPERATIONS 

 

 

**SUBJECT NOTES**  

 

 **10/03/1948:** SUBJECT DISPLAYING SIGNS OF RESISTANCE TO J.F; A.Z BEGINNING RESEARCH INTO OTHER FORMS OF SUBDUING SUBJECT 

 **03/04/1948** : FORMER OPERATIVE TRIGGERED VIOLENT REACTION FROM SUBJECT (WITNESSES REPORT THAT NAMES OF SUBJECT'S MARKS WERE MENTIONED TO SUBJECT MINUTES BEFORE INCIDENT); SUBJECT NO LONGER ABLE TO BE SUBDUED BY J.F; FORCEFUL MEANS OF RESTRAINT NOW AUTHORIZED BY A.Z UNTIL OTHER MEANS OF PACIFICATION CAN BE FOUND 

 

> ****18/04/1948** : AFTER MULTIPLE INCIDENTS OF SUBJECT BEING RESTRAINED WITH HEAVY FORCE, SUBJECT DISPLAYING SIGNS OF EXTREMELY RAPID HEALING; A.Z CALLED IN FROM NEW YORK TO EXAMINE SUBJECT PERSONALLY 
> 
> ****21/04/1948:** AFTER EXTENSIVE RESEARCH, SUBJECT'S HEALING ABILITIES CONFIRMED BY A.Z 

**22/04/1948:** FUTURE USE OF SUBJECT FOR MORE THAN EXPERIMENTATION WITH SUPER SOLDIER SERUM NOW UNDER DISCUSSION 

 

> ****** PREVIOUS DISCUSSION OF SUBJECT'S FUTURE AFTER PERFECTION OF SUPER SOLDIER SERUM CENTERED AROUND HAVING SUBJECT PRODUCE ENHANCED CHILDREN TO BE RAISED AS MORE SOLDIERS; SUBJECT DISPLAYS MULTIPLE ENHANCED ABILITIES THAT COULD POTENTIALLY BENEFIT HYDRA IN THE FUTURE 
> 
> ****** AFTER VARIOUS INCIDENTS OF OPERATIVES ATTEMPTING TO COPULATE WITH SUBJECT, THE SUBJECT REACTS WITH EXTREME VIOLENCE AND EVERY OPERATIVE HAS BEEN LOST; SUBJECT UNWILLING TO CARRY ANY CHILDREN TO TERM; A.Z, J.F, AND V.G FEARFUL THAT IF SUBJECT WERE TO BE BRED, EITHER EXTREME STRESS WOULD CAUSE SUBJECT TO MISCARRY OR THAT SUBJECT WOULD PURPOSEFULLY CAUSE MISCARRIAGE 

**29/04/1948:** PROJECT MUTTER OFFICIALLY DECOMMISSIONED 

 **30/06/1948:** OVER COURSE OF TWO MONTHS, SUBJECT TESTED TO MEASURE THE EXTENT OF PHYSICAL ABILITIES; BEST ATTRIBUTES ARE ENHANCED HEALING RATE AND SPEED; STRENGTH IS ALSO ENHANCED IN RELATION TO MALE AND FEMALE HUMANS BUT THOUGHT TO NOT BE ON PAR WITH CPT. STEVEN ROGERS (FIRST SUCCESSFUL RECIPIENT OF SUPER SOLDIER SERUM) 

 **01/07/1948:** PROJECT FENRIR OFFICIALLY SANCTIONED 

 **04/07/1948:** UNSUCCESSFUL ATTEMPT BY A.Z TO PACIFY FENRIR USING ELECTROSHOCK THERAPY; LATER DETERMINED IMPORTANCE OF DATE TO FENRIR MAY HAVE HELPED IN RESISTANCE TO THERAPY; ANOTHER ATTEMPT WILL BE MADE AT A LATER DATE, SUBJECT TO BE PLACED BACK INTO ISOLATION UNTIL THEN 

 **16/07/1948:** PAST WEEK DEDICATED TO BREAKING DOWN FENRIR'S MENTAL WALLS BY J.F WITH AID OF A.Z'S ELECTROSHOCK THERAPY; FENRIR CLOSE TO BREAKING POINT 

 **05/08/1948:** AFTER CONTINUAL ELECTROSHOCK THERAPY, FENRIR IS BELIEVED TO BE SUBMISSIVE ENOUGH TO BEGIN TRAINING; OPERANT CONDITIONING TO BE PRIMARY METHOD OVER COURSE OF TRAINING 

 **11/09/1948:** MARKS DETERMINED TO BE A CONTRIBUTING FACTOR TO FENRIR'S SUDDEN RESISTANCE TO TRAINING AND ELECTROSHOCK THERAPY; ORDER GIVEN TO ATTEMPT BURNING THE MARKS OFF FENRIR'S BODY 

 

> ****** FENRIR REACTED WITH EXTREME HOSTILITY TO MARK REMOVAL ATTEMPT, ALL OPERATIVES INVOLVED LOST 
> 
> ****NOTE ADDED ON 10/03/1965:** AFTER VARIOUS ATTEMPTS MADE OVER FENRIR'S OPERATIONAL YEARS TO REMOVE MARKS, 100% CASUALTIES ALWAYS THE RESULT; FURTHER ATTEMPTS TO REMOVE MARKS  NOT RECOMMENDED 

**07/12/1948:** FIRST FIELD TEST WITH FENRIR TO BE CONDUCTED 

 

> ****NOTE ADDED ON 19/12/1948:** ALL TARGETS SUCCESSFULLY ELIMINATED BUT MULTIPLE OPERATIVES LOST IN PACIFICATION OF FENRIR AFTER PROGRAMMING WAS BROKEN 

**13/01/1949:** FENRIR APPEARS TO BE FULLY OPERATIONAL; FENRIR TO BE PLACED INTO CRYOSTASIS CHAMBER UNTIL USE REQUIRED IN FUTURE 

 **17/11/1960** : REFER TO MISSION REPORT FOR MORE DETAILS 

 **22/11/1963** : REFER TO MISSION REPORT FOR MORE DETAILS 

 **05/12/1966** : REFER TO MISSION REPORT FOR MORE DETAILS 

 **27/07/1969** : REFER TO MISSION REPORT FOR MORE DETAILS 

 **06/08/1969:** RESEARCH INTO FENRIR'S REPEATED FAILURE OF MISSIONS DUE TO BREAK IN PROGRAMMING TO BE CONDUCTED 

 

> ****** CONCLUSION: FENRIR'S RAPID HEALING RATE FIXING DAMAGED BRAIN REGIONS 

**07/08/1969:** DISCUSSION OF FENRIR'S BENEFIT TO HYDRA VERSUS LOSS OF OPERATIVES AND RESOURCES WHEN FENRIR BREAKS PROGRAMMING UNDERWAY 

 

> ****** UNTIL A TIME WHEN THE SUPER SOLDIER SERUM CAN BE RECREATED, FENRIR TOO VALUABLE ASSET TO HYDRA TO BE LOST; HOWEVER, NEW PROCEDURES TO DEAL WITH FENRIR'S BREAKS IN PROGRAMMING MUST BE CREATED 

**22/08/1969:** TO PREVENT MULTIPLE OPERATIVE CASUALTIES IN FUTURE, CODES STILL IN PROCESS OF BEING IMPLANTED IN FENRIR'S MIND TO SHUT FENRIR DOWN IF THERE IS ANOTHER BREAK IN PROGRAMMING 

 

> ****NOTE ADDED ON 18/09/1969:** CODES FINALLY ACCEPTED AND FUNCTIONAL 

**16/12/1991** : REFER TO MISSION REPORT FOR MORE DETAILS 

 **23/12/1991** : ELITE SQUADRON MEMBERS SEEMED TO ACCEPT SUPER SOLDIER SERUM WITHOUT COMPLICATION; MEMBERS OF SQUADRON BROKE DOWN AND LOST CONTROL DURING TRAINING SESSION WITH FENRIR; FENRIR SUCCESSFULLY PROTECTED AND TRANSPORTED V.K AWAY FROM SITE; FENRIR SENT BACK IN TO SUBDUE EACH MEMBER AND PLACE THEM INTO CRYOSTASIS CHAMBERS 

 **26/10/2002** : HEADMISTRESS OF RED ROOM ACADEMY APPROACHED A.P ABOUT POSSIBLE USE OF FENRIR TO ASSIST TRAINING BLACK WIDOWS; AS PER A.P'S APPROVAL, RED ROOM ALLOWED TO USE FENRIR 

 **15/12/2003** : FENRIR DECLARED MISSING BY RED ROOM ACADEMY, ALONG WITH ONE OF THEIR OWN; FENRIR AND BLACK WIDOW SUPPOSED TO CHECK IN AT RENDEZVOUS POINT BUT ABANDONED THEIR ORDERS; HYDRA OPERATIVES SENT IN TO RETRIEVE FENRIR BY ANY MEANS NECESSARY 

 **10/03/2004** : FENRIR AND BLACK WIDOW LOCATED, SUBDUED, AND TRANSPORTED BACK TO SIBERIAN BASE; HEADMISTRESS OF RED ROOM ACADEMY REQUESTED BLACK WIDOW UNDERGO ELECTROSHOCK THERAPY; OPERATIVES LOST DUE TO FENRIR'S STRUGGLE TO KEEP BLACK WIDOW OUT OF CHAIR; FENRIR REPROGRAMMED AND PLACED BACK INTO CRYOSTASIS 

 **23/04/2011** : VALKYRIE FOUND ALONG WITH BODIES OF CPT. STEVE ROGERS AND SGT. JAMES BARNES; A.P SCHEDULING TIME FOR SCIENTISTS TO EXAMINE BODIES AND SUPER SOLDIER SERUM 

 **24/04/2011** : CPT. STEVE ROGERS AND SGT. JAMES BARNES ALIVE AND AWAKE; FENRIR NOT TO BE AWAKENED UNLESS UNDER EXTREME CIRCUMSTANCES 

 **11/10/2013:** REFER TO MISSION REPORT FOR MORE DETAILS 

 **13/10/2013** : REFER TO MISSION REPORT FOR MORE DETAILS 

 

 

**NOTABLE MISSION REPORTS**  

 

 **MISSION REPORT** :  

 

> **DATE OF MISSION** : 17/11/1960 
> 
> **LOCATION** : U.S.S.R 
> 
> **TARGET(S)** : MARGARET CARTER 
> 
> **RESULT** : FAILED 
> 
> **NOTES** : POTENTIAL RISK MARGARET CARTER POSES TO HYDRA TOO HIGH; PER A.Z'S AUTHORIZATION, FENRIR TAKEN FROM CRYOSTASIS AND PREPPED FOR FIRST MISSION; FENRIR SUCCESSFULLY REMOVED TARGET'S ENTIRE TEAM, TARGET WOUNDED AND KNOCKED UNCONSCIOUS, BUT FENRIR CARRIED TARGET TO TARGET'S RENDEZVOUS POINT AND ABANDONED MISSION; FENRIR SUBDUED AND TRANSPORTED BACK TO SIBERIAN BASE TO UNDERGO REPROGRAMMING 

 

 **MISSION REPORT:**  

 

> **DATE OF MISSION:** 22/11/1963 
> 
> **LOCATION** : DALLAS, TX, U.S.A 
> 
> **TARGET(S)** : JOHN F. KENNEDY, MARGARET CARTER 
> 
> **RESULT** : SUCCESSFUL/FAILED 
> 
> **NOTES** : PER A.Z'S AUTHORIZATION, FENRIR TAKEN FROM CRYOSTASIS AND PREPPED FOR MISSION; SUCCESSFUL ELIMINATION OF KENNEDY BUT FENRIR REFUSED TO CONTINUE MISSION AND ELIMINATE MARGARET CARTER; OPERATIVE CASUALTIES IN SUBDUING OF FENRIR; FENRIR TRANSPORTED BACK TO SIBERIA TO UNDERGO REPROGRAMMING 
> 
> ****** FURTHER USE OF FENRIR IN MISSIONS INVOLVING THE ELIMINATION OF MARGARET CARTER NOT RECOMMENDED 

 

 **MISSION REPORT:**  

 

> **DATE OF MISSION:** 05/12/1966 
> 
> **LOCATION** : CHICAGO, IL, U.S.A 
> 
> **TARGET(S)** : AMANDA LANE 
> 
> **RESULT** : SUCCESSFUL 
> 
> **NOTES** : JOURNALIST AMANDA LANE TOO CLOSE TO LEARNING WHEREABOUTS OF QUINN HAYDEN; PER V.G'S AUTHORIZATION, FENRIR TAKEN FROM CRYOSTASIS AND PREPPED FOR MISSION; SUCCESSFUL ELIMINATION OF TARGET, BUT RESEARCH OF QUINN HAYDEN WAS PRESENT IN APARTMENT AND POSSIBLY SEEN BY FENRIR; FENRIR ABANDONED ORDERS TO RETURN TO CLOSEST BASE AFTER TARGET TERMINATION; OPERATIVES TRACKED DOWN FENRIR TO GRAVESITES OF EMMETT AND CLAIRE HAYDEN IN KY; FENRIR TRANSPORTED BACK TO SIBERIA TO UNDERGO REPROGRAMMING 

 

 **MISSION REPORT:**  

 

> **DATE OF MISSION** : 27/07/1969 
> 
> **LOCATION** : PHILADELPHIA, PA, U.S.A 
> 
> **TARGET(S)** : TIMOTHY DUGAN 
> 
> **RESULT** : MISSION PREMATURELY TERMINATED 
> 
> **NOTES** : MARGARET CARTER AGAIN POTENTIALLY POSES RISK TO HYDRA BUT FENRIR NO LONGER AUTHORIZED TO COME INTO CONTACT WITH TARGET [SEE PREVIOUS MISSION REPORTS FOR FURTHER DETAIL]; PER A.Z'S AUTHORIZATION, FENRIR TAKEN FROM CRYOSTASIS AND PREPPED FOR MISSION; SENT TO TERMINATE TIMOTHY DUGAN TO PREOCCUPY TARGET MARGARET CARTER; NEARBY CIVILIANS SPOKE ABOUT RECENT MOON LANDING; OPERATIVES CLAIM THAT FENRIR'S MEMORIES OF SGT. JAMES BARNES WERE SOMEHOW TRIGGERED; FENRIR ESCAPED AND OPERATIVES TRACKED HER DOWN TO BROOKLYN, NEW YORK, NY; MISSION TERMINATED AND FENRIR SUBDUED AND TRANSPORTED BACK TO SIBERIAN BASE TO UNDERGO REPROGRAMMING 

 

 **MISSION REPORT:**  

 

> **DATE OF MISSION:** 16/12/1991 
> 
> **LOCATION:** STATEN ISLAND, NY, U.S.A 
> 
> **TARGET(S):** HOWARD STARK, MARIA STARK 
> 
> **RESULT:** SUCCESSFUL 
> 
> **NOTES:** HOWARD STARK SUCCESSFULLY RECREATED SUPER SOLDIER SERUM, PER V.K'S AUTHORIZATION, FENRIR TAKEN FROM CRYOSTASIS AND PREPPED FOR MISSION; SENT TO TERMINATE HOWARD AND MARIA STARK AND CLAIM EXPERIMENTAL SERUM FOR HYDRA'S USE; TARGETS SUCCESSFULLY ELIMINATED AND SERUM BROUGHT BACK TO BASE IN SIBERIA 

 

 **MISSION REPORT:**  

 

> **DATE OF MISSION:** 11/10/2013 
> 
> **LOCATION:** WASHINGTON, D.C, U.S.A 
> 
> **TARGET(S):** COL. NICHOLAS FURY 
> 
> **RESULT:** SUCCESSFUL 
> 
> **NOTES:** RISK OF COL. NICHOLAS FURY DISCOVERING AND EXPOSING HYDRA; PER A.P'S AUTHORIZATION, FENRIR TAKEN FROM CRYOSTASIS AND PREPPED FOR MISSION; TIME FRAME EXTREMELY NARROW DUE TO POTENTIAL DISCOVERY OF FENRIR BY CPT. STEVE ROGERS AND SGT. JAMES BARNES BUT TARGET SUCCESSFULLY ELIMINATED AND FENRIR RETURNED BACK TO BASE IN D.C 

 

 **MISSION REPORT:**  

 

> **DATE OF MISSION:** 13/10/2013 
> 
> **LOCATION:** WASHINGTON, D.C, U.S.A 
> 
> **TARGET(S):** CPT. STEVE ROGERS, SGT. JAMES BARNES, NATASHA ROMANOFF 
> 
> **RESULT:** FAILED 
> 
> **NOTES:** CPT. STEVE ROGERS, SGT. JAMES BARNES, AND NATASHA ROMANOFF DECLARED FUGITIVES OF HYDRA; AFTER DISCOVERY OF ZOLA'S ALGORITHM AND SUCCESSFUL INTERROGATION OF JASPER SITWELL [NOW DECEASED], RISK TO PROJECT INSIGHT TOO HIGH; PER REQUEST OF AGENT BROCK RUMLOW, FENRIR SENT IN TO ELIMINATE TARGETS; FENRIR'S MASK REMOVED IN FRONT OF TARGETS AND FENRIR'S PROGRAMMING STARTED TO BREAK DOWN; AGENT BROCK RUMLOW REQUESTED PERMISSION TO USE FENRIR SHUTDOWN CODES; PERMISSION GRANTED PER A.P; FENRIR SUBDUED AND TRANSPORTED BACK TO D.C BASE TO UNDERGO REPROGRAMMING


	3. Bones (Quinn Hayden as the Winter Soldier)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Dig up her bones but leave the soul alone_   
>  _Lost in the pages of self made cages_   
>  _Life slips away and the ghosts come to play_   
>  _These are hard times_   
>  _These are hard times for dreamers_   
>  _And love lost believers_   
>  **\--MS MR**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is literally 25k words and I have absolutely no shame whatsoever. People have literally been begging me to write a one-shot about Quinn becoming the Winter Soldier/Fenrir and I promised I would write it before starting in on canon. So! Here it is! I really, really, really hope that you guys enjoy this! Much love! <3  
>  **Important Trigger Warning-Related Information**  
>  I'm not going to lie here. This is extremely dark in a lot of places. Like there is so much angst. I didn't want to insert Quinn into Bucky's plot. She is a cis woman and is going to have a completely different experience at the hands of Hydra than Bucky. I mean, we don't completely know what happened with Hydra and Bucky, but you know what I mean. Although nothing is explicity detailed, there is heavily implied rape/non-con; mental and physical torture; internalized victim blaming; grief and mourning. There is one part in particular that is extremely dark and that section is marked with *******. It's related to child death so if you think that might trigger you then at the very bottom, there'll be spoilers and I'll explain the scene.

Look, the problem is that he's never not once been careful when it comes to love—this is Bucky's problem, by the way, not Steve's, as much as that may shock some people. It isn't only the people who wear a heart on their sleeve that can love hard…or love recklessly, for that matter. The only real difference with people who have hearts on their sleeve is that they're a lot more open about how they feel. Steve is one of those people—everyone close to him knows that he's shit when he tries to lie or hide how he feels. Bucky, on the other hand, is a master of the art of keeping cards close to his chest, but as touched on before, he could hide what he felt as much as he wanted but that didn't stop his stupid, shitty heart. It happened fast and hard, the love he has for two of the most stupid, most stubborn, most beautiful people in the history of all creation. 

 

This may come as a surprise to the people who know Bucky and Steve best—and Bucky's asked Steve about this before to make sure—but the one who fell for one Quinn Esther Hayden first was him and Steve still doesn't know about it. Quinn would've said otherwise, but Bucky never actually hated her. There in the start, he was careful as fuck around her, yeah, because he didn't know her, where she came from, and Steve's a reckless shit-head that needs someone to watch his back and his heart since he won't do it himself. Everyone immediately took to her and whenever Bucky stops to think about the war, to think about her, it makes sense. Honestly, it was easy for anyone to love her in some way or another. 

 

Bucky can remember the exact moment it dawned on him that he was in love with her. For that whole day, the Commandos had snapped at each other's heels. No one could really blame them because morale had been pretty damn low. They had no damn clue when they would head back to London, the weather had been God awful for what seemed to be weeks on end, and they were low on rations—which also meant that they sure as hell didn't have any booze or smokes to hold them over. To this very day, let alone back then when he really knew her, it shocks him that she kept so patient with them. They'd probably seemed like a pack of rabid wolves to her. 

 

Anyway, everyone had been fed up with each other, and Steve declared a lot earlier than usual that they could stop and set up camp. Quinn had disappeared down to the river the moment they started to hunker down and Bucky swore he'd rip her a new one because she knew she wasn't supposed to sneak off alone. They'd told her over and over, even if she needed to take a leak or wash up in whatever nearby body of water they found, she needed someone to look out for her—it wasn't because she was a dame, every Commando had to have another person with them. Now that he thinks about it, the panic he felt when he turned around and she was nowhere to be found should've clued him in sooner that he loved that dame, but he's an idiot so sue him. 

 

Bucky watched her before she spotted him. God rest her soul, Quinn never could keep a tune to save her soul, but he never did much mind to hear her do it. By that river, she'd belted out some Robert Johnson— _Me and the Devil Blues_ , he thinks it was. "… _it must-a be that old evil spirit, so deep down in the ground_ ," she'd crooned. He watched her deft nurse's hands loop some thin rope around one of her bent hypodermic needles and then tie that rope around the end of a stick to fashion herself a pole. " _You may bury my body, down by the highway side—_ " then she had turned around and shrieked in terror before she realized it was him. She'd almost ripped his balls off, she was so mad that he scared her that way. 

 

So, maybe the reason why she hadn't cared so much about everyone's terrible moods was because she was so busy with her makeshift hook. She'd been hunched over it the whole hike. No wonder the little minx had wanted them to keep on until they were around some water because she planned to cook them up some supper. "You ain't allowed to ruin the surprise either, asshole. You have so much time to scare me half to death then you can help me carry fish up to the fellas," she'd informed him with a huff after she revealed her nefarious plan. She threw the line over her shoulder and when she casted it back out into the water, the hook almost took out his ear which he's sure now she did on purpose. "Better yet," she'd drawled and looked over her shoulder with a little smirk. "You _could_ help a lady out." 

 

It was a damn shame that she never could see her worth. When he'd leaned his chin down on her shoulder and playfully said, "And here you say you're not the sharpest tool in the shed," she'd quickly brushed the compliment off. He'd made sure to stress, "No, hey, 'm serious. This is smart. Awful kind of you, too." 

 

Always was cute as a button whenever her cheeks turned red. "Been a little while since we had us a decent meal and a fish fry sounded nice to my stomach. Y'all would've done this too if you had any brains between the bunch of you," she'd muttered and he'd smiled at how she ducked her head to the side. Then, so they wouldn't talk about it anymore, she taunted him with, "Hope you know how to fish, city slicker." Then, she threw a branch at him to fashion a pole of his own. 

 

Bucky watched as she reeled in yet another fish and it was the weirdest moment to realize he was in love with her, he knows, but…that was when it hit him. Goddamn, she had been Aphrodite incarnate then with how the sun reflected off her straw blonde hair, with her flushed cheeks sprinkled with those freckles, mouth stretched into a wide, toothy smile as she beamed with pride, those eyes the color of gunmetal blue—melted with mischievousness and warmth as she mercilessly teased him. He hadn't wanted to do more than reach out, take her face in his hands, run his thumbs across her skin, and find out exactly how her lips would feel under his. He wanted her in every way possible and, mother fucker, he _loved her_ … 

 

…yeah. Yeah. That's the problem now, isn't it? Bucky loved her then and that love's never stopped—even after decades spent on ice. He loves her now. It doesn't matter how much he's looked at a slab of stone with _Quinn Esther Hayden_ etched into it and the dates _November 21, 1920 – January_ _01_ _, 194_ _7_ underneath. He could take a look at the faded name branded on both his and Steve's skin, too. Doesn't make a damn difference. No matter what proof is put in front of him, his heart won't take the hint and move on. 

 

Immediately after they woke up from the ice, they'd asked about everyone _but_ Quinn. Hell, they wouldn't even look at the marks on their own bodies, they were so damned scared to know the truth. Believe it or not, they're not so dumb that they didn't realize there were really only two possibilities—but love turns people into fools sometimes and lovesick bastards like them continue to hope until they absolutely can't anymore and, fuck, sometimes that still doesn't stop Steve. Best case scenario is that she moved on over the years, that she had popped out some kids, that she was old now and happy. But Bucky isn't naïve and Quinn wasn't made to last—not without someone there to watch her back. Before the three of them even met, she'd already been hurt by evil men so much and she could've turned mean because of it but she _didn't_. She held her head up and _helped people_. Good people like Quinn are here one second and are taken away the next—it's shit but that's how the world works, in his opinion. 

 

As Bucky suspected, Quinn _had_ went out the same way she probably came into this world—with her fists raised and ready to do battle. That's what he hopes, anyway. Because _no one_ , not even SHIELD with their infinite resources, was ever able to find out exactly what happened to her. A bad mission, that's what Fury had told them when they finally did muster up the bravery to ask. Bucky's sure that Fury knows exactly what went down because Carter was bound to have passed on the information since she was actually _there_ , but Fury plays stupid and neither Bucky nor Steve were about to push for more. 

 

After the Battle of New York, they went to see Quinn's family, to see if there was any more information they could learn from them. Liam didn't know much, really. Took them both down to the river, sipped on a beer that he had to sneak past the missus, and stared off into the distance. “None of us were ever really the same after the news hit. My ma…she blamed Pa, said that he could’ve talked sense into her, that he could’ve made her stay. I don’t think she understood that absolutely no one could’ve made Quinn stay. She was real lost when she came back from the war. I really only hope she found some peace before she passed.” 

 

Josephine DuPont had been their next stop. She’d know more than Liam ever could because Quinn's name is on her too, but she wasn't nearly as happy to welcome them into her home as Liam was. Once Florence, Josephine's partner of decades, walked away, Josephine stared out the window for a few minutes, lips pursed, hand clenched around the handle of her cane. "It took a whole _year_ before her name faded away. I watched and prayed that she'd come home, but she never did. " She rubbed her forehead and took a deep breath. "It's better this way. She hurt a lot after she lost y'all." 

 

Bucky had to curl around Steve when they made it back to their hotel room and hold him as close as possible. It hurt his boy to hear that. Hurt Bucky too, of course, but he's always been more worried about Steve and Quinn's hearts rather than his own. 

 

 

Three years later and the hurt hasn't stopped. Sometimes, because he's a poor bastard, when Steve's out on a mission or wrapped up in whatever business SHIELD wants him to deal with, Bucky pulls out that old SSR file and stares at the pictures they collected of Quinn—both from her time in the war with them and the short time she spent overseas after he and Steve went down in the ice. All of them, they're old black and white photos and he wonders a lot if this is what Steve felt like _before_ the serum fixed his color-blindness. Like he said, it's only technically been three years since he last saw her and he has a super-enhanced brain now—or so the fancy new doctors tell him—so it shouldn't be that hard to put some color to the picture, but…it is. 

 

The last clear mental picture he has of Quinn is when she was stood up in the back of Schmidt's car and watched them with wide, terror-stricken blue eyes while her straw blonde hair whipped around her face in the bitter winter winds. He faintly remembers her soft, supple lips as they touched his for the last time, how her hand that clutched his wrist shook—and it wasn't from the cold, he knows. 

 

Usually, Bucky won't look at the photo at the very front of the file because that one hurts the most. Still, he's a masochist, so sometimes he _will_ look at it to remind himself of the real shitty, terrible soulmate that he is. It was a picture taken when the war was over, when the SSR kept her on as an actual agent, and he's a little happy that M.I.A is stamped across the picture in bold, red letters because he can't completely see how sad and serious she became after they fell. 

 

He'll stare at the redacted report that explains her last bad mission until his eyes bleed and his brain's a real nasty fucker because all he can think about is the fact that some Soviets kidnapped her and she probably died on some scientist's table. The whole war, she'd been terrified to end back up under Zola a second time, and maybe it wasn't Zola who tortured her, but she still ended up as some mother fucker's pet project. _A whole fucking year_ , that's how long his gal fought for her life. 

 

Bucky will love Quinn until the day he dies, he knows that now. But…there are times that he secretly hates her and maybe Steve does, too. It's only because they spent so little time with her, but she was able to stamp her name on their hearts and souls and someone between them should've known they were doomed from the start. Most days, in this brand new future, when they wake up and have to look at her faded name marked on their skin, it feels like God Himself has tied a cinder block to their souls and it's weighted them down ever since. 

 

\--- 

 

After the Battle of New York, Bucky decided he was done with wars and wouldn’t head into anymore. He’s lost an arm because of one already—sure, he technically lost it because of that dip in the ice and the crash but the war was still on when he went down and it counts in his book—so, yeah, when Fury calls, Bucky doesn’t answer. Steve, however, has never been able to do that as easily as Bucky and he also feels like he has a duty to honor Quinn’s memory and stick with SHIELD which she helped create. Unfortunately, someone _has_ to watch Steve’s back when the missions are too much for one super soldier, so he turns into a consultant in case. He really hopes there’s not _another_ catastrophe that could blow up the world. 

 

Natasha shoots Bucky a text about how Steve isn’t in the best mood after their latest mission and the lack of smiley faces on her end immediately concerns him. But apparently Steve wants to deal with it on his own because he takes his sweet ass time to make it home. Nat texted him pretty early and it isn’t until later in the afternoon that Steve walks in the door. 

 

Steve doesn’t even say a word, doesn’t even stop to poke his head in the kitchen where Bucky is. He heads back to the bedroom and Bucky can hear him flop down on it. Bucky, who has spent pretty much most of his life with Steve, knows exactly how bad a mood Steve is in and almost wants to stay in the kitchen because Steve is sour before he's sweet sometimes, but the concern wins out. 

 

“Hey,” Bucky softly calls out when he’s in the doorway of their bedroom. Steve keeps his face shoved in the pillow and, yeah, it looks like it’s one of those days where he’ll have to pull out Steve’s teeth before he spills what’s up. “Hey, sweetheart,” he murmurs as he crawls onto the bed beside Steve. 

 

A few minutes pass before Steve breaks…kind of. He tilts his head to the side and stares at Bucky with those blue, blue eyes. He doesn’t talk about the mission, but he does blurt, “I went to the Smithsonian today.”  

 

“Oh,” Bucky tries to casually reply. “You did, huh?” He has to bite back _what the fuck_? Ever since the museum asked for his and Steve’s permission to put their lives on display, Steve’s been pretty adamant to _not_ see it. They only really said yes because they wanted to honor the Commandos. 

 

“Quinn would hate it,” Steve points out and sounds completely miserable about it. 

 

“Yeah,” he breathes out. “Yeah, I know she would.” 

 

And that’s true—Quinn _would_ hate it. There’s a nice sized section dedicated solely to her and that alone would make her squirm. He can almost hear the spiel that plays overhead when a person makes it to her section. _When Quinn Esther Hayden left her small hometown in Kentucky to help the war efforts as a nurse, she had no idea what was in store for her—that she_ _would be meeting her soulmates Steven Grant Rogers and James Buchanan Barnes and_ _that she would_ _be_ _following them ac_ _ross the battlefields of Europe, taking down Hydra, the rogue Nazi science division._  

 

“ _It ain’t that big a deal_ ,” Steve pitches his voice up and tries to imitate her southern drawl. 

 

Bucky snorts at the absolute terrible impression but then he does the exact same thing and imagines she’d also say something along the lines of, “ _Why are all these people kickin’ up a fuss about me?_ ” 

 

It starts to make sense now, Steve’s mood the past week or two. Sometimes, he’ll have these…periods where he’ll remember Quinn and try to mourn her— _try_ is the keyword. Like he has room to talk. He’s not sure either of them will be able to truly accept her loss. She was…such a pivotal moment in their lives. In the heat of a cruel, bloody war, she was a comfort. 

 

“I miss her, Buck.” 

 

A tear slides down his cheek and he doesn’t even bother to wipe it away. They have literally seen each other at their worst and he can be open around Steve. Steve knows how much it still hurts. “I do too, pal.” 

 

\--- 

 

Neither of them take time to look at their marks.  

 

Technically, even before shit started to hit the fan, the two of them never looked at them too much. Bucky’s may be in a more obvious place than Steve’s, but they’ve learned how to keep their eyes away from them—Steve especially has mastered the art. Sometimes, it’s easier to pretend they aren’t there. 

 

A person would think that, between the two of them, they’d notice it—at least when they had to throw on some normal clothes after Nick’s assassination and SHIELD’s attempt to—he doesn’t even know what the fuck is up with SHIELD. Anyway, there’s not much brains between the two of them. So, they didn’t even think about their marks. 

 

They should’ve paid more attention. 

 

\--- 

 

“Most of the intelligence community doesn’t think she exists. The ones who do call her Fenrir. She’s credited with over two dozen assassinations over the last fifty years.” 

 

\--- 

 

The woman— _Fenrir_ , stands in the middle of a busy expressway with absolutely no fear. Cars swerve out of the way and miss her, but Sam barrels forward at her. She still doesn't move. She is dressed like she's about to head off into war. All black. Armed to the teeth. Mask that hides her entire face other than her eyes. Her blonde hair is pulled back into a neat braid. 

 

Fenrir speeds toward them and all hell breaks loose. 

 

\--- 

 

The mask clatters to the ground and Fenrir looks over her shoulder to watch the targets closely. Two pairs of disbelieving eyes settle on her naked face and, the same as before, since she started this mission, a wave of…something washes over Fenrir’s mind. She ignores it–she _must_. She has to complete the mission and maybe they’ll send her to the ice without a wipe. 

 

“Quinn?” the target who carries the shield questions her, voice quiet yet horrified.  

 

“Who the hell is Quinn?” Fenrir questions because the mission is looking at her like she’s this…Quinn. 

 

Quinn… 

 

…Quinn… 

 

There is no singular wave now and there’s nothing gentle about what suddenly happens in Fenrir’s mind. Whatever these men have done to her, it suddenly crashes against the wall in her mind, wave after brutal wave. The precarious wall the handlers have struggled to build over the years is suddenly cracking and there’s a flicker. These men…these men…she’s seen them before. Were they handlers? Perhaps defected and her current masters want to see them taken care of? No. It has been at least a decade since she was last used and they would not be so young. The flickers in her mind, those show glimpses of a different decade besides. Not modern. The men smile. Did she smile back?  

 

This is worse than any physical wound and, panicked and backed into a corner, the asset raises her weapon to threaten them away. She tries to snarl at them, but she can’t wipe the confused panic off her expression entirely. These men, her missions, they’re what has caused this disturbance in her brain. She can…retreat and regroup and the handlers won’t like it, but she can handle the pain. 

 

A sound like a jet engine comes barreling in her on her right and she’s kicked to the ground, sent tumbling and trying to recover. The unknown with her three targets has some kind of flying weapon and she goes to aim her gun at him, but then the strike team comes speeding into the area, creating a perimeter around them. Fenrir hauls herself to her feet and watches as Rumlow and Rollins come storming up behind her–the two men. They’re not hers. Nothing belongs to her. Fenrir is a weapon. She is nothing and no one.  

 

And yet they call her Fenrir, a wolf, and even wild animals have packs, don’t they? That can be the only explanation for why she wants to storm over to where her current handlers are and bite and rip their flesh apart with her teeth to get their nasty hands off the targets.  

 

“Who is Quinn?” Fenrir suddenly speaks up–out against her handlers. 

 

Every weapon, other than Rollins and Rumlow’s, turns to point at her. That’s right. She’s dangerous. She’s not a weapon. She’s an animal. She has sharp teeth and sharp claws.  

 

“You are!” the man with the metal arm shouts, face furious for a moment before his expression drops, saddens. “You’re Quinn,” he adds miserably.  

 

“Barnes,” Rumlow hisses at the target who just spoke. “You or Cap say another word and I’ll put a bullet in her pretty little head right here and now and shove your face in her brains.” The mission stares at her, terrified, and snaps his mouth shut. He is…concerned for her safety? 

 

More importantly, Fenrir has another flash. Another man had used her as a shield before, too, threatened to put a bullet in her head. It’s not Rumlow, though. This man in her…is this a memory, she doesn’t know–anyway, he is in a military uniform. The missions are there too, across the way, worried and full of rage. Was that the Quinn they spoke of, who was kept a hostage? It can’t be Fenrir, though. Fenrir was only born to pain and darkness. Nothing came before Fenrir…did it? 

 

“Asset,” Rumlow starts slowly because she’s tensed up and looks ready to pounce. “Stand down,” he warns.  

 

“ _Who_ the _hell_ is _Quinn_?” Fenrir is desperate to know, but it seems that the only people who know are about to be killed. They’re the missing pieces. They have to be protected. They are pack.  

 

“No one. A dead woman.” Rumlow hisses in aggravation under his breath and suddenly presses at the comm in his ear. “Director Pierce, requesting the shutdown code. The asset is breaking down.” A pause and Fenrir raises her weapon again, aiming it at Rumlow. “Now, sir,” Rumlow adds quickly, leveling Fenrir with a steely gaze, like she wouldn’t dare shoot at one of her handlers.  

 

“Who the hell is–” 

 

“Shutdown code 07041918, 03101917.” 

 

The last thing that Fenrir sees before everything completely shatters in her mind and her entire world goes back is the horrified expressions of the two men. As she hits the ground, she distantly remembers that someone caught her before, but that warm memory crumbles into dust and Fenrir sleeps. 

 

\--- 

 

They call her Quinn. They repeat it over and over and over. That damn name bounces around inside her head and it _hurts_. She is not this Quinn. She is Fenrir. She is an animal. She is not a person. Every time she thinks she's a person, there's pain. There's always pain. 

 

 _Quinn. Quinn. Quinn. Quinn._  

 

No more. Absolutely no more. Both the men will be silenced. The one with the metal arm fell from the carrier, she'll take care of him later. As for the man with the shield, he's underneath her. She straddles his waist. She raises the knife in hand. She hesitates. Why does she hesitate? This is her mission. She _has_ to complete the mission. 

 

"Go ahead and do it," her mission whispers. "Take the leap." 

 

The walls crack and crumble. There's a flash. This man's kind hands touch her face and pull her close. Their lips touch. It hits her like a shot in the heart. There is love and kindness in this memory. There is no pain. Both the men are love. 

 

When the man with the shield falls, she follows. 

 

Because she's always followed him. 

 

\--- 

 

Once Steve's in stable condition and it's real late, when there's no chance that some nurse or doctor would pop in to check on him, he moves over and makes room for Bucky to slide in next to him in the bed. It's more Steve's idea than Bucky's—because he's always put Steve's health above his own and this isn't the first time Steve's tried to seduce Bucky into bed while he's been sick—but it's been a shitty week for them, so he doesn't complain this time. 

 

"It hurts," Steve starts quietly which scares the absolute shit out of Bucky. If Steve's still in pain, he really shouldn't be in the bed with him and should call a nurse in. But then Steve shoves his face into the crook of Bucky's neck and his voice is muffled when he elaborates with, "When I look at the nurses here, it breaks my goddamn heart, Buck." His arms snake around Bucky's torso and Bucky can feel Steve shake underneath him. "You know how happy it made her to be a nurse, don't you? She loved that she helped people. But Hydra took that away from Quinn. They took her and turned her into a killer." 

 

That isn't exactly true, Bucky can't help but think, but he decides to not point it out and consoles Steve instead. The nasty truth of the matter is that it wasn't Hydra that made Quinn a killer—they really only forced her to perfect the art. Technically, the people who turned Quinn into a killer were Steve and Bucky themselves. After they went down in the ice, Quinn was all alone and hurt worse than either of them could ever possibly dream of, and she wanted every person that helped break her heart to _burn_. Honestly, if Bucky had been in her exact same position, he would've turned into a whole lot worse and he wouldn't have went on to try and become a doctor and _that's_ what breaks his heart. Quinn had been hurt and she hurt people back, sure, but they were horrible people who deserved it anyway. In the end, she was _good_. 

 

No. Not _was_. _Is_. Quinn still is good. Bucky has no idea what kind of hell they've put her through yet—he will soon, though, if Nat can scrounge something up—but she's fought and she's still fighting because she saved Steve, damn it. They broke through the torture and brainwashing and that means something, doesn't it? Maybe it'll be a lost cause in the end, but like he's said before, he's a reckless bastard. Seventy years later and he loves Quinn Hayden and he'll do whatever the fuck he can to help save her. 

 

\--- 

 

The doctor clears Steve to be released, thank God. The both of them were raised with some damn manners, so Steve doesn't complain to the doctor, but as soon as they're alone, Steve hasn't shut the hell up about how he's healed up and wants to start the search for Quinn already. Bucky loves Steve, he does, but he swears that Steve couldn't sit still to save his damn life. He's always been that way—the second he could move, he wanted to and didn't think that it'd make his whatever illness he had at the time worse if he did more than his body was ready for.  

 

While Steve throws on his clothes, someone quickly darts into the room, face hidden by a bouquet, and closes the door shut behind them. Before the person reaches over to shut the blinds, Bucky watches some frantic nurses dart past their room, probably on the lookout for their guest…which turns out to be one Tony Stark. 

 

Because Tony doesn't have a non-dramatic bone in his body, he drops the bouquet onto the nearest flat surface and proceeds to complain. "You know, I almost regret not throwing my name out there and risk having a parade of paparazzi stalk me here. Do you know how hard it was to sneak in here? They have this hospital locked up tighter than Fort Knox." Then, he winces. "Just realized that I probably shouldn't mention anything in or remotely close to the state of Kentucky, right? Considering that your girlfriend isn't quite as dead as we all thought she was?" 

 

Bucky's used to Tony's…very loud personality. The two of them have spent a lot of time with each other over the past few years since Tony's the one who supplied Bucky with his fancy metal arm. Steve, however, isn't nearly as used to Tony as Bucky is, so he pinches the bridge of his nose and heaves an all-suffering sigh. "You could've called, Tony." 

 

"Only for you and Bucky Bear to be on your way to Europe on the hunt for your lady friend? Besides, this is one of those extremely important conversations that you _need_ to make a personal appearance to for," he explains. "Also, I need a headcount here. You guys didn't make any more friends other than Bird Boy Two, did you? Is he going to be a permanent fellow ass-kicker? I'm sure you'll let him sleep over in the meantime, but I need to know—should I commandeer another floor in the tower for him or no?" 

 

"Jesus, not this _again_ ," Steve mutters under his breath while he scrubs a hand across his face. 

 

"Tony," Bucky starts slowly. Steve and Bucky have been over this with Tony before. The polite excuse that Steve came up with was that they want to keep their personal lives separate, but what it basically is that they like their privacy and Bucky doesn't want someone to barge in on him if he's balls-deep. "Look, we appreciate the offer, but—" 

 

Tony holds up a hand to shut Bucky up while he fishes his cell phone out of his pocket. "Rhodey, my snickerdoodle, how are you?" He croons when he answers. Whatever Colonel Rhodes says, it makes Tony's nose scrunch up. "I assume not very happy by that tone of voice. Nice to hear from you too, sugar plum." He perks up for a second, so Bucky assumes Rhodes is sweet on Tony for a second, but then Tony rolls his eyes so Rhodes has probably started a lecture. They remind Bucky a little bit of himself and Steve in the fact that they won't let the other get a word in. "Look, someone should stay with Pepper until the heat dies down—yeah, yeah, I _know_ she can whoop ass on her own, but sue me if I want a little more protection—hey, dear old dad technically did help kick Hydra ass back in the day, _and_ also I'm a really important person. Hydra would be stupid _not_ to target me." 

 

" _No_ ," Tony suddenly barks and Steve and Bucky glance at each other in surprise. In a rare show, Tony is serious, and that worries Bucky for obvious reasons. "No, you and Pepper can't come to the tower." Both Rhodes and Miss Potts are as serious about Tony as he is with them, so of course Rhodes wants to be there to back Tony up with whatever has him so serious and argues some more. "It's like talking to a brick wall with you! Is this how you feel all the time when you're talking to me?" Tony throws his other hand up in exasperation. "Goddamn it. Look, okay, you want to know the truth? Fine. There is a very dangerous, very deadly, very confused ex-Hydra assassin waiting in my tower for her princes to come rescue her. I'm not even sure if she'll be there by the time I come back with said princes—that need to hurry the fuck up and get dressed, by the way—but if she is then I don't want to risk you two, okay? Believe it or not, I _do_ care." 

 

"Why the fuck didn't you start with that in the first place, Stark?" Steve shouts and scrambles into the bathroom to finish changing his clothes. Bucky, at the same time, sprints toward the door, shouting, "I'm going to pack our bags! Come pick me up at the apartment!" 

 

As the door closes, Tony gleefully informs Rhodes, " _Rhodey_ , Cap—America's sweetheart—dropped the F-bomb. Can you believe it? This is the best day ever…except for the whole _assassin in my workshop_ deal." 

 

\--- 

 

For someone that's supposed to be one of the smartest people in the world, Tony really didn't think shit through when he _took his Iron Man armor and flew to D.C._ Well, maybe it's a _little_ understandable. Anyway, it's obvious that Bucky and Steve aren't about to take a ride on Tony's back—Steve looks really tempted to do it, though, because of how much quicker they'd be in New York if they did it that way…or because he gets his rocks off on adrenaline rushes, Bucky's not sure which—but they do ride on a private Stark jet which is the second quickest option. 

 

Their plane has barely made it into the air when Tony calls them from his suit. Outside the closest window, Bucky can see Tony streak past them in his suit. "Can I start this off by saying that _holy shit_ , your girlfriend is super terrifying? And I don't mean in the same way Pepper is when she's kicking ass and taking names and I come to the realization that she's amazing and beautiful but could totally wipe the floor with me. I casually tell your missus to hang tight and sit still while I fetch you guys. Also, to be clear, I told her she's free to use my private floor to clean up or sleep or do anything to prove she's not a robot—I _told her_ , I swear. Yet J has confirmed that she has literally not moved an inch other than the very minute movement that naturally occurs from breathing. That's…really, really freaky." 

 

Steve is already on Quinn's defense and petulantly shoots back, "Maybe you haven't heard about this yet, but she's been brainwashed and tortured for _seventy years_." 

 

" _Touchy, touchy_ ," Tony tuts before he continues. "And, hey, do you know how little sleep I'm running on right now? It's a lot less than my usual and, as we all know, that is very…not good. Here I was, minding my own business, trying to rest up a little before I have a much needed but probably sleepless vacation with my Pepper and my Rhodey, and I wake up with your girlfriend towering over me. She disabled my security _—mine!_ Do you know how impossible that should be for a…how old are you two? Uh, Jarvis, when was Hayden born?" Both Steve and Bucky supply him with the 'nineteen-twenty he's looking for. "A ninety-three-year-old woman hacked my security—" 

 

"Sir," Jarvis butts in and Bucky still doesn't know how a machine can have so much personality but he has that long-suffering tone that most people who deal with Tony a lot tend to get. "Miss Hayden did not hack our systems. I knew she was attempting to gain access to the building. I didn't think she posed an immediate threat, so I allowed her entry to the elevator. Alerted to my presence, she proceeded to break into the air vents and I merely lost track of her from there." 

 

"Hold on a second," Tony nearly screeches. "You _let an assassin into my tower?_ And then _you lost track of her_? Are you malfunctioning? That's the only logical explanation! What made you think she was safe—" 

 

"Miss Hayden was unarmed and at no point did her physiological vitals indicate that she was aggressive or agitated," Jarvis defends. "Might I also pose the question that if Miss Hayden was such a threat, would you rather her be in public or be inside Stark Tower where you could handle the threat personally? I will also remind you, sir, that you have multiple armors in the tower now." 

 

Bucky can't see Tony's face, but he's probably about to blow a gasket. "I'm telling Pepper about this, Jarvis!" 

 

"Terrified, sir." 

 

"Jarvis," Steve interrupts and, over Tony who starts to complain some more, asks, "Has Quinn…said anything since she's been at the tower?" 

 

"Since her arrival at the tower, Miss Hayden has only spoken to make her request to see you and Sergeant Barnes. Since Mister Stark left, she has remained absolutely silent despite my probing. I don't think she likes me very much." 

 

" _I_ don't like you very much, Jarvis," Tony snaps. 

 

Steve plops down in the seat next to Bucky and groans loudly. If he expected more than that, Bucky needs to have a serious talk with Steve about lowering his expectations. Shit, he needs to have that conversation with Steve anyway. "Can you keep us updated? Even if it's the littlest thing that changes, let us know. Please?" 

 

"Of course, Captain Rogers." 

 

"Tony," Bucky calls out while he eyes Steve warily. There's an argument on the horizon, Bucky knows it. The next time they manage to get some sleep, Bucky will definitely be sleeping on the couch. "Look, pal, we appreciate _everything_ you're doing for us here, but do you think we could have some privacy—" 

 

"Oh _shit,_ " Tony whispers suddenly. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—" then the line goes dead. 

 

Both Steve and Bucky are on their feet, as if they can do anything more than stand around in the plane like a couple of jackasses. "What happened?" Bucky barks and hopes that Jarvis is still with them. "Jarvis, you there? C'mon, talk to me here. What happened to Tony? He's not at the tower already, is he? Tell him—" 

 

"I'm still here, Sergeant Barnes. It slipped Mister Stark's mind that Doctor Banner recently moved into the newly refurbished Stark Tower. However, there's no need to worry. I have alerted him to Miss Hayden's presence in the tower and Doctor Banner has decided it be best to remain in his own personal quarters until a more opportune time," Jarvis explains. "I merely reminded Mister Stark because I believe that you and Captain Rogers wouldn't have your privacy otherwise. I shall contact you if there are any changes with Miss Hayden." 

 

Bucky drops back down in a seat and covers his face with his hands. A few hours of uninterrupted sleep would do him a world of good right now, but when Steve turns around and looks as wary as Bucky did about a minute ago, Bucky knows that's not in the realm of possibility. "Why exactly do we need some privacy, Buck?" 

 

"We need to talk about Quinn." 

 

"What's there to talk about, huh?" Steve crosses his arms over his chest and shoots Bucky a sharp look. "We're gonna walk in there and we're gonna help her. We left her behind once and _I'm_ sure as hell not gonna do it again. It's as simple as that. Why? You got something else planned that I need to know about?" 

 

"Calm down, baby. I ain't sayin' that we won't help her," he tries to soothe. Bucky stands up and puts his hands on Steve's shoulders, squeezes. "I know you, though, and I can see you hoping that the person we're about to see is going to be the woman we fell in love with back in the war, but it won't be her. Not all the way. That's what you need to know. That woman's dead now." 

 

Steve immediately shoves at Bucky's shoulders to put some distance between them. "How can you say that?" He snarls furiously. "How can you give up on her like that? You weren't there on the helicarrier and you don't know what happened up there, but she _saved me_ , Bucky. She _remembers_. What the fuck is wrong with you?" 

 

Fuck, his soulmate is a prickly little bastard—always has been, a super soldier serum couldn't ever change that. "Jesus Christ, Steve, just listen to me for once in your fuckin' life," Bucky bites back. "The Quinn Hayden we knew is dead, but so are the people we used to be. If you think you 'n me went down in that ice and came out the same people, you're lying to yourself." Steve crosses his arms over his chest and makes a point not to look at Bucky, but the lack of backtalk means he knows Bucky's right. "What I'm trying to say is that you can't go in there, hoping she'll turn into the exact same person she was before. That's not fair to her. The last thing she needs is for us to go in there setting standards for her to meet. She's been through _hell_ , Steve, every fucking circle of it. You don't come back the same from that." 

 

\--- 

 

 _Think about Quinn_ , he repeats over and over in his head. _This is about Quinn. It's not about how you feel. It's not about how Steve feels. This is all about Quinn_. He's said it once and he'll repeat it, it's been a really fucking hectic week. So, it really hasn't had the chance to sink into his brain until now that Quinn, his soulmate, his sweetheart, has been tortured and brainwashed for _seventy years_ —and that's the bare minimum of what they've done. Who the fuck knows what else has been done to her? Furious doesn't come close to what he feels when he thinks about it now, but he can't show that around Quinn. They have no idea what kind of shape her head's in now, but if he heads into Tony's workshop stinking with rage, she'll be bound to pick up on it and maybe she'll think it's directed at her. He can't have that—he _can't_. He has to keep a level head here. 

 

"Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes," Jarvis greets when Steve and Bucky step inside the elevator. "There have been no updates since we last spoke. Miss Hayden has been steadfast in both her silence and her decision to remain in Mister Stark's workshop until you two arrive," he explains. 

 

"Guess it's best that we don't keep her waiting too much longer then, huh?" Bucky murmurs. He wonders if he sounds as nervous as he feels. As the elevator starts to head up, Steve reaches out to clutch at Bucky's flesh hand, and Bucky turns to stare at Steve. There's a pretty decent mixture of emotions that lurk behind those blue eyes of his, but it mostly seems like he's about to throw up, and Bucky hopes that the expression on his own face shows Steve that the feeling is mutual. 

 

When the elevator crawls to a stop and the doors start to slowly slide open, Tony is headed at them full-throttle. "Look! Here they are now," he announces loudly and nervously. Tony practically throws himself inside the elevator only so he can push Steve and Bucky out faster…or maybe he wants a couple of human shields—it's probably both, honestly. "Your princes, your knights in shining armor, the two missing peas to your pod, the two people you can stare at creepily now instead of me," he sings. 

 

It takes his breath away to see her there, seated on one of Tony's many cluttered workbenches. From what Bucky can see of her, she isn't in the best shape, but she's _here_ and she came here by her own choice—or so he hopes, God he hopes. Quinn doesn't move a muscle, not even to look over her shoulder and watch them walk toward her. Bucky wants to make sure she isn't hurt, but he doesn't circle around her like he wants to do to make sure she's okay and, with Steve, comes to stand in front of her. That same blank expression is on her face that she wore when they faced her down in D.C, but that seems to be all that's the same. Hydra had her straw blonde hair pulled back into a neat braid, but it's loose now and wavy—same way it'd end up after the Commandos were stuck in some rain. She hasn't brushed it since she dove into the river after Steve probably, because it's tangled too. He's not even sure that she's put on new clothes other than a hoodie. She definitely has on the same black cargo pants and combat boots, muddied from the shores of the Potomac. There's more bulk underneath the hoodie, more than what's normal, so she has on her tactical vest still. 

 

" _Quinn_ ," Steve breathes out and darts over to stand closer to Quinn than he probably should—for both his safety and her peace of mind because her expression may not waver but he can see her tense up the tiniest bit which is as much of a wince as she's probably been allowed. The movement is obvious to anyone that actually looks, so Steve notices and thankfully takes a step back to try and make her relax. "Oh my God," he whispers to himself as his eyes sweep over her body. "Quinn, are you hurt?" 

 

Quinn's eyes immediately drop. "You dislocated a shoulder, but it's been reset now." A shiver runs down Bucky's spine. Her voice cracks from the lack of use, but other than that, it's as blank as her face. He's _never_ heard her talk this way—same way he's never seen her drop her eyes in submission the way she does now—and it scares the shit out of him. "Any other injuries were minor and have healed." She holds out her hands, crusted in blood. "This is not my blood." 

 

Bucky takes a deep breath. "Whose blood is it then?" Quinn looks hesitant and Bucky assures her, "You're not in trouble, Quinn. I'm sure whoever's it is that they deserved it. We want to know why you're here, that's all." 

 

"I know you both," she starts hoarsely. "My current—my previous handlers wanted you dead, but the reason was unknown to me and I needed to know why. I needed to know you. I needed more information and went back to the rendezvous point at the bank that was set by my previous handlers. The technicians there were unable to provide answers and they were—" she hesitates. "They were liabilities that I couldn't afford." There's a pause and she starts to hunch in on herself and, horrified, Bucky realizes it's because she waits for punishment. "I went to a museum after. That was where I learned—" there's a flash in her eyes, he swears he sees it, but he doesn't know what exactly it is and she quickly covers it up. "You two are…Steven Grant Rogers and James Buchanan Barnes, aliases Captain America and the Winter Soldier. You've both been spotted multiple times with members of your new team, the Avengers, but most often with Anthony Stark who is based out of this tower. This tower is rumored to be one of the most secure in the country. You've been targeted by what remains of my previous masters. Logically, this is where you would be safest. You should have been here, but you were not." 

 

" _Thank you_ ," Tony cuts in with a shout and throws his hands up in the air dramatically. While he scowls at both Bucky and Steve, he points at Quinn. "Look, even your girlfriend thinks you two should've moved in already." 

 

Smartly, Steve keeps the bitchy remarks to himself. He doesn't even acknowledge Tony's remark. He keeps calm and collected and, to Quinn, points out, "Okay. Now you know who we are." Then, quieter, he asks, "Do you know who _you_ are?" 

 

Bucky doesn't know if he's supposed to be happy about this or not, but her mask _finally_ cracks. "I'm—" he can see the panic in her eyes and watches her mentally fumble to come up with the best answer. What she decides on is, "I am Fenrir and I'm _yours_." Then, she starts to strip down. In the center of his chest, hope starts to bloom. She's headed for her marks. That's what she means. She takes off her hoodie, drops her tactical vest on the floor, and then raises up the hem of her shirt so she can run her hand across her abdomen where their names are scrawled, dark black. "I think I've always known that I wasn't supposed to be with the previous handlers. You proved that," she explains but it seems like it's meant more for herself. She looks up at them, eyes fierce and…hopeful maybe? "Your names are on me and that means you own me." 

 

Someone sucks in a sharp breath—is it Steve or is it him or is it both of them? Fuck, he can't breathe. The nausea is back, too. Scratch that. Bucky's about to pass out. From the other side of the room, Tony whispers, "That's _fucked up_ ," which is one of the best ways to sum up what she just said to them. What's worse here? The fact that she thinks their marks equate to some kind of…of _ownership_? Or the fact that she's so damn desperate to prove they own her. Who can blame her? Anyone would be better than Hydra at this point. 

 

"That's _not what that means_ ," Bucky's as desperate to prove to her that she's not _owned_. "Those are soul marks. You saw that in the museum, didn't you? We made sure they added it before they put it up. We wanted the world to know that we're _soulmates_. Your name is on us, too. _Quinn Esther Hayden_ ," he stresses. Bucky knows that he shouldn't, but he does it anyway, and walks toward her so he can touch her hands that are clenched in her lap. " _That_ is who you are. Hydra kidnapped you. They did terrible shit to you all these years. They didn't want you to remember. They turned you into Fenrir, but that's _not who you are_." 

 

"That _is_ who I am," she argues quietly. Then, she snaps her mouth shut so fast and he's so close her hears her teeth clack. She tenses up, waits for more punishment for the backtalk. He desperately wishes he could've been there to make Pierce die so much more fucking slower than he actually did. "I've been Fenrir since—it's all I can remember." 

 

"It's not, though, remember?" Steve gently reminds her and inches closer himself. "You remember that day, don't you? Because you remember what you told me before our very first kiss. I'd asked you if it was okay to kiss you and you'd told me—" 

 

"I don't know why I said that," she snaps and snatches her hands away from Bucky's. "I don't remember that day." Bucky can feel her panic. She must feel backed into a corner. He's quick to move back so she has room to breathe. "I don't _remember you_ ," and she seems pretty resolute about that. 

 

"We'll help you remember then. We'll find a way to help you remember," Bucky declares. "And while you're here, you're safe. We will _never_ hurt you the way Hydra did. We'll never make you do anything that you don't want to do. If you're uncomfortable in any kinda way then you tell us and whatever it is that's causing it stops then and there. You're not some tool or a dumb animal. You're a _person_ and we'll do whatever we can to help you remember that." 

 

Quinn finally tilts her head back up, but she doesn't look at them. Her eyes are far away, somewhere else. "My previous masters, they'll come for me," she says it almost absentmindedly. 

 

"Yeah, they definitely won't," Tony replies with a snort. "We have an ace in the hole that lives here in the tower with us. Since your brain's a literal blender and I don't want it to explode, trust me when I say that they wouldn't dare mess with us when he's here. At least, I don't think they're that stupid. Besides, I can always up the security. Lasers—we need lasers." 

 

"I tried to kill you."  

 

Steve defends her even from herself. "You didn't kill either of us, though, and you didn't have a choice in the matter. They made you come after us." 

 

Quinn decides that she wants to look someone in the eyes now and it's Bucky. "I almost killed him." There's something…unspoken there. _You’re supposed to protect him—_ and he can almost hear it in her southern drawl. They'd promised that to each other back in the war, to look out for Steve because God knows he sometimes can't do it himself. Maybe Bucky's reaching too much, but he swears he can see a glint of a challenge in her eyes, asking, _will you really risk Steve's safety for me?_  

 

It isn't only Steve that Bucky will put himself on the line for. He's as much of a reckless idiot as Steve is. "We trust you, Quinn." 

 

She looks away and _you shouldn't_ is loud and clear. 

 

\--- 

 

First and foremost, Quinn needs what every person should have—food and water, a hot shower, and some damn sleep. None of those are exactly available in Tony's workshop and Bucky's not even sure that they're accessible in the rest of Tony's penthouse suite since he can hardly take care of himself, so they need to move Quinn down to the whole brand new floor Tony had built for them. Gold Man, that's what they should call Tony, because that's what his heart's made of, but it's not the coolest name out there. Really, he needs to learn to show affection for other people in a less…extreme and expensive way. Bucky already has a metal arm with Tony's metaphorical name on it. If only Tony understood that when Bucky says he's more than happy to have beers with Tony, he means it. 

 

Anyway, Tony has to show them around their new place since Quinn's not the only one who's never stepped foot in the penthouse suite. It's definitely nice as hell, more than Steve, Bucky, and Quinn ever could've dreamed of back in the day. There are two bedrooms, but the master has an extremely big bed that Bucky can't help but notice could comfortably fit three people. With three super soldiers taken into consideration, the bathtub in the master bathroom is on the smaller size, but that can't be quickly replaced like a mattress can. Still, they could definitely make it work—they've made due with smaller. The kitchen was fully stocked on their way up from D.C. But the closet is empty and Tony offers his credit card to fix that problem, but Steve and Bucky have it covered. Besides, it probably wouldn't be the best idea to leave Quinn alone or to take her into a public place. 

 

They'll have to come up with some kind of way to thank Tony for what he's done. Bucky and Steve have pretty much blown to hell any chance of a vacation he planned to have. He won't say it but Quinn's presence has Tony pretty unnerved too. For now, Bucky thanks him all the way to the elevator and then the three of them are alone. 

 

Steve and Bucky need to talk about a plan of attack and they need time to do that, so a shower is the easiest way to do that. Steve's real careful to phrase _you should take a shower_ as, "Do you want to take a shower?" They'll have to watch the way they talk from now on. Bucky's pretty sure any sentence that doesn't end with a question mark will be taken as an order by Quinn and she needs to have choices. Orders, though, may have to be a thing when it comes to basic human needs since she looks unsure about how to answer Steve's question. "Maybe you should," he gently suggests. "The hot water will feel really nice and some clean clothes, too. Oh, and don't worry about clothes for now. I can leave some of ours out for you. We'll have to make due until we have some time to buy you your own." 

 

Quinn's eyes drop back down. "Understood," she mumbles quietly and then turns around to head back toward the bathroom. 

 

The second they hear the shower turn on, Steve breathes out, loud and shaky, and scrubs his hands over his face. Bucky needs to breathe himself and leans back on the kitchen counter for some extra support. 

 

Steve, voice muffled by his hands, moans sadly. "She thinks her marks mean we _own_ her." If his eyes are wet when he looks over at Bucky, he won't mention it. He's not in any better emotional shape. "Bucky, Jesus Christ, what the fuck did they do to her?" He walks over to slide his arms around Bucky. 

 

"Nothin' good, baby." Bucky cups the back of Steve's head and holds him close. "But I can see some of her in there. I _know_ a piece of Quinn is in there. They can do whatever to her head and her body, but they couldn't break her soul." 

 

"No, they didn't, but they tried as hard as they could and that's the problem. Where do we even start to help her? What do we do from here?" Steve leans away and barks out a bitter laugh. "We thought we were ready for this, but what if we're not? Like always, we didn't think this through. She should be somewhere with—" 

 

"Professional help?" Bucky interrupts. "Therapists? Doctors? The kind of people that've probably messed around in her brain for decades? You really think it'll end well for anyone involved in that situation? Besides, we have no idea who we can trust at this point. And even if Hydra didn't come after her, the country wants someone to blame and if we lock her up, we'll never see her again. She's safest here. She _came to us_ , Steve. I don't know if it was instinct or if it's who she used to be that told her to do it, but she trusted us enough to come back here. We can't turn her away now." 

 

"But that doesn't change the fact that _we don't know how to help her_ ," he hisses. "Do you remember how we were fresh out of the ice? Sometimes we still have real bad nights. And we weren't trained to be one of the deadliest assassins of all time. There'll be a point where she remembers _it all_ and we don't know how to handle that fallout." Bucky snaps his mouth shut and scowls down at his feet. "Yeah, that's what I thought," Steve remarks dryly. "I'll be back. I need to go leave her some clothes out." 

 

\--- 

 

Bucky thanks God that there isn't much of the day left because he's not sure he can handle any more awkwardness. Dinner is a pretty quick affair since Quinn stares at her food uncomfortably before she stiffly announces that she already ate. He's pretty sure it's a lie or if it's not then she probably hasn't eaten recently, but he has no idea because she used to be a shit liar—same as Steve—but her poker face is infinitely better than before. Neither of them probe and they won't force any food down her throat unless it's absolutely necessary. Steve does make sure to let her know that she's open to eat whenever and whatever and if they don't have it then she can order it because she's a super soldier now and that means she has the appetite of one too. 

 

Bed is an even worse and even more awkward affair. Bucky is nearly dead on his feet. Steve may not be physically tired, but he's definitely emotionally exhausted and needs to rest. Quinn, however, is up in the air. Bucky practically chokes on the offer for her to come to bed with them because who knows how she'd take that? He doesn't want her to feel like she has to offer herself up. But he's really missed her and likes to think it would help her but he knows it doesn't work that way. 

 

"I don't require much sleep," Quinn explains which is probably as much of a protest that she can put up. 

 

"When's the last time you slept?" Bucky casually inquires.  

 

Her brows furrow and she has to actually think about it so that means it hasn't been recent. "I…don't know," she hesitantly answers and her body tenses up. Bucky's not even sure if she's consciously aware that she does it, so he has to learn to live with it. 

 

"I think we could all use some sleep after today. Do you want to try? You can use the spare room so you can have a little privacy," Steve explains. 

 

Discomfort's back on her face, but she doesn't say a word. Just turns around, heads back into the bedroom, and shuts the door behind her. 

 

"Go to sleep, Buck," Steve murmurs when the both of them settle in their own room. He brushes a kiss across Bucky's forehead. "I've had some time to sleep this past week, but _you_ haven't. I'll take first watch to make sure she's okay." Bucky won't win and he's too tired to talk back anyway, so he closes his eyes and sleeps. 

 

\--- 

 

The sun's barely up when Bucky's phone vibrates on the stand next to their bed. Steve, at some point, fell asleep on his watch and he stirs at the sound, but settles when Bucky leans over to pick it up. He blinks and tries to rub the sleep out of his eyes before he takes a look at the texts from an unknown number. 

 

 **> >> Had to call in a lot of favors in Kiev but I finally got what you asked for. I'm sorry I couldn't be there to personally give it to you but I can't see her. Not yet. I need to figure some things out. ** 

 **> >> Both of you be careful. You may not want to pull on this thread.** 

 

He takes a deep breath and then holds it in, listens close to make sure Quinn’s not up and about, but there’s not a sound. He’s not sure why he bothers because if she can sit in Tony’s lab for hours and not move an inch then she can sneak around the suite without a sound. On his exhale, he slips out of bed. On the off chance that Quinn is actually asleep, he tries to be as quiet as possible on his way toward the front door. Thank God that Tony actually had the good sense to let them actually have a door rather than just have the elevator open up directly on their floor.  

 

Like Nat said, there’s a thick folder in front of the door. Old. Worn. Russian on the front. Almost casually, after he picks it up, he flips open the front cover and stares at the large picture taken of Quinn locked in the machine that kept her in cryostasis. Her face is visible through frost covered glass and she looks almost peaceful. Down in the corner, there’s a cropped snapshot of her from back in the war, grinning. 

 

Bucky moves over to the couch and plops down, breathes in and out shakily. The pictures…hurt. The before and the after is so surreal. He really thinks about heeding Nat’s warning because there’s nothing good that can come out of this. There’s nothing but pain in this file. Quinn’s documented pain. Nothing but a constant reminder that they damned her, caused her this pain. But _this_ is his duty to Quinn—to know what she dealt with. 

 

So he starts to read it but doesn't make it very far before he has to throw it on the table in front of the couch. His stomach churns and he can feel bile in the back of his throat. He holds his face in his hands and tries to breathe past the horror. Jesus, he didn't make it to any of the actual missions. The _torture_ they used to beat her down, both mentally and physically, is…there are no words for how terrible it is. He can't even _read_ about it, let alone think about how it actually felt for _her_. 

 

Someone touches the top of his head and he looks up, expects Steve, but Quinn’s there instead. There's an almost…curious expression on her face as she moves her hand to touch his cheek. Her thumb brushes under his eye and wipes away a tear. 

 

He clutches at her wrist and chokes out, “I’m sorry.” As if that could possibly make up for the fact that if they’d only _tried harder_ to make it back to her then she would’ve been spared from all this pain.  

 

He doesn't expect her to reply, but she asks, "Why?" 

 

 _Why_ , she asks him. _Why?_ Like she doesn’t realize that people aren’t supposed to be treated the way she’s been. “You’ve had to deal with _so much pain_. You’ve hurt for so many years and you’ve been alone.” He drops his head in shame. “I’m sorry that we weren’t there to save you. You must’ve been so desperate and scared and—when you needed us most, we _weren’t there_.” 

 

"I don't remember it." 

 

But she does in some way because of the way she tenses when she expects some kind of punishment, because of how she always drops her eyes in submission. Maybe her mind doesn't remember, but the body does. "You will," he warns. "Your brain—it heals fast. Soon, you'll start to remember it all." 

 

"Then let it come," she declares and there's steel in her voice. That determination is all Quinn. Hard-headed. Stubborn.  

 

Bucky turns her hand over so the palm faces him and then he leans down to press a tender kiss in the middle. "We're here for you," he explains. "Whenever you wanna talk, we're here to listen. We will never ever leave you alone a second time." 

 

\--- 

 

Not much of a surprise, but Quinn spends a lot of her time holed up in her room. It seems like the only times she ever leaves her room is when Steve and him are in bed, when it's real late. But she's so quiet when she does it. The only reason he even knows she moves around is because he's stumbled out unexpectedly because of a bad dream or for some water and seen the shadow of her disappear back into her room. 

 

But as time passes, she starts to make more and more daytime appearances. She likes to come in the kitchen, take a seat at the table, and quietly request, "Tell me about Quinn Esther Hayden." 

 

 

"You were born in Hazard, Kentucky. Twenty-first of November. Your pop, Emmett, was real in touch with his Irish roots. Your ma, Claire, came from Lexington and her parents had a horse farm. Had a little brother, too—Liam. Down the road lived Missus DuPont with her two, Josephine and Sophia. Both your families were real close." 

 

"You have a real sweet tooth. Gave Bucky a run for his money. You'd always barter away smokes for chocolate bars and then you'd hoard 'em. You especially love 'em when it's that time of the month. One month, your cramps were real bad and your stash had run out and I almost couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw Bucky let you have his last one." 

 

"You've always stood up for other people. There was this one time. We were in a camp, in the mess hall, and some asshole talked down to Gabe and Morita. Threatened them. We were about to throw down with him, but you stand up. You went up to him, threw him one of those sweet little smiles, and he was sure you'd be on his side 'cause by then everyone knew you were from Kentucky. But then you decked that asshole square in the jaw—" 

"And that's not even the best part. So, this brawl breaks out 'cause one of them had the audacity to touch you and none of the Commandos would let that stand. We're called in to see the top of the top brass and you lay it on that man. You start with those crocodile tears, lay on the ol' southern charm, and tell him that you were raised in a place where men don't talk that way to ladies and that he touched you and—it was magic. You saved us from a hell of a lot of trouble." 

 

 

Then, hesitantly, she starts to whisper her own stories. 

 

 

"I had a best friend once. Josephine? We met when I was…ten. I found her when she was lost in the woods. Too scared to move because of a snake. I knew it wouldn't hurt her. There was this…old rhyme. I told it to her. What was it? _Red touch yellow, kill a fellow. Red touch black, a friend of Jack's_." 

 

"We had a dock. Pa would take me there to fish, teach me how to swim, teach me Gaelic. When Liam was older, we'd take our poles and the two of us would fish. Sometimes for hours. He loved to push me off when I didn't expect it. I did it to him, too." 

 

"After you crashed the plane…there was another woman—dark hair, red lips. Her name was—it was Peggy, wasn't it? Yes. It was Peggy. She…helped it hurt less. She understood. I loved her, I think. We didn't have much time with each other. I wished we did. I never said it out loud to her, but…I loved her, too." 

 

\--- 

 

Suddenly, she stops. One day, she doesn’t come out of her room. They knock on her door, but she doesn’t say a word to them. Trays of food that they leave outside her door stay untouched. A day bleeds into two. Finally, near the end of the second, when Steve is wrapped up in talk with Tony, Bucky breaks down and heads inside her room without her permission. Bruce explained to them that her metabolism runs faster than even Steve’s, so she _has_ to eat—probably needs more than the both of them. He really shouldn’t have even let her spend this much time without food. 

 

Quinn doesn’t make a peep when he steps inside her room. She’s buried underneath the covers and merely watches him as he moves and sits down next to her on the bed. It’s only when he starts to reach out and touch her shoulder that she shakily says, “Don’t.” His hand freezes mid-air. “Don’t…touch me. Please. Just…don’t.” 

 

“Okay,” he concedes quietly and pulls his hand back. For a few minutes, he doesn’t talk either, only studies her face. As he does, he’s more and more worried by the second. She looks exhausted, but it’s not the kind a person can sleep away. This is a tired that looks like it sinks down to her bones. “I won’t make you tell me what happened.” Because there was some kind of cataclysm that made her suddenly backtrack this way. “But you have to eat, okay? You have to take care of yourself.” 

 

“Why am I here?” He almost doesn’t hear the question, her voice is so quiet. It also came out of nowhere, so he’s confused by what she means. “Why do you two want me? How could you possibly want to touch me or even be near me after I’ve become so…dirty?” Oh. Oh no. It starts to dawn on him what the problem is now. “I’ve been used and used and used some more. They did whatever they wanted me to do and I let them. I was their _pet_. Eventually, they didn’t even need the leash anymore. I—” 

 

“ _Stop_ ,” he snaps. He will _not_ let her sit here and try to blame herself for what’s been done to her. Gentler, he repeats, “Stop. Don’t do this to yourself.” Jesus, but he’s not even sure of what else he can say. The shitty truth of the matter is that he and Steve can never truly understand this kind of brutalization because it’s never happened to them. Sure, maybe he can relate to the torture and experimentation, but not to this scale. And that breaks his heart. There is such a divide between them and her and most days, he’s terrified that they’ll never be able to reach her. 

 

Quinn barrels on, almost desperate to prove how little she’s worth. “I can never have children. Did you read about that? When they finally understood that I’d rather die than let them put a baby in me, they took it all out so there’d be no chance for my body to heal itself. They sterilized me—” 

 

Goddamn it. Mother fuck, how could she even think that matters to them? “We don’t care. Jesus Christ, Quinn, we could care less about that.” 

 

Out of instinct, Bucky tries to reach out to cup her cheeks in his hands, but she snatches his wrists and practically screams, “ _Then why do you want me_?” Tears start to run down her cheeks and she clutches his wrists so hard that his metal arm starts to whir in protest. “I’m not even defective at this point. I ain’t even a person. Not even some dumb animal. They have stripped me bare in every way they possibly could. I’m no more than _bones_. Why the fuck would you possibly want me?” 

 

“Because _we don't care_.” He doesn’t mean to shout, but _fuck_. _He wishes she could understand_. “Quinn,” he chokes out. He’s not cut out for this. What the fuck can he even say to make her see? What words could possibly make her feel better? “ _Quinn_.” He pulls his hands away so that he can wrap them around her and press her close to his chest. “I know this ain’t what you wanna hear, but _we don’t care_. It wasn’t even your fault. You didn’t deserve any of this.” He eases them sideways, down onto the bed, and the sob she responds with shatters his heart all over. “We would never think you’re dirty ‘cause of the cruel and brutal and evil shit people have done to you. That’s fuckin’ bravery—to make it to the other side after all that’s been done to you.” 

 

“Bucky,” she sobs and he closes his eyes. Doesn’t bother to hold in his tears anymore. She has never once called him that ever since she showed up here. Hasn’t even said Steve’s name. “Bucky, I _tried_.” Oh God. It’s her. The shattered pieces that made up Quinn have slowly started to put themselves back together. “I promise that I _tried so hard_. But they hurt me and hurt me and…I _couldn’t take it anymore_.” 

 

“You made it, baby doll. Okay? You’re here. You survived. That’s all anyone could ask for.” He clutches the back of her head and tries to press her as close to him as possible. He wishes he could keep her so close that her hurts sunk down into him instead. “So maybe those sons of bitches stripped you down to the bone, but they couldn’t ever break your soul. We’ll take you. Any way you are. Bones and all. _We want you_.” 

 

\--- 

 

Bucky holed up in Quinn’s room with her until she cried herself out and then drifted off to sleep before he went back to his own. Steve looked pale, worried to death, but Bucky shook his head because he’s not sure it was his place to talk about what happened and told Steve as much. 

 

Glass shatters and that’s what wakes him up the next day. He throws himself out of bed and nearly breaks his neck when he trips in the sheets. He scrambles for the kitchen, Steve’s name on his lips, but stops dead in the doorway. Quinn has her arms around Steve—must’ve scared the hell out of him so bad that he dropped his milk.  

 

Steve looks like he can’t quite believe it, but his arms lock around her. “Say it again,” he whispers while he tries to blink away some tears. “Please,” and his voice shakes.  

 

Quinn tilts her head up a little, closes her eyes, and takes in all that Steve is. He can’t even start to think about how much physical contact that isn’t violent must mean to her. Then, she whispers, “Steve.”  

 

Years now, they’ve had to deal with her physical loss. Lately, they’ve had to deal with an emotional loss. So to hear their names come out of her mouth, it’s a kind of medicine. Heals a hurt they were sure they’d have to deal with the rest of their lives.  

 

\--- 

 

At nearly the three month mark, Steve and Bucky haven’t even been in bed for maybe more than ten minutes when their door creaks open and Quinn pokes her head inside. They never would, but since she doesn’t hear an immediate scram from them, she slips past the door and quietly shuts it behind her. Then, she…kind of hovers. Rubs her upper arm. Tucks some hair behind her ear. Nervous habits that never really died in her time with Hydra. She’s definitely more self-conscious than they’ve seen out of her ever—on this side of the century, anyway. 

 

"Quinn?" 

 

"I—" she clears her throat. "I wanted to talk to you." Steve leans over to turn on the lamp and the both of them lean up in bed. They’d never turn her away, but especially not now that she’s come to them on her own accord. She’s never come to their room. “Can I…?” She points at the bed. Like she has to ask. “Okay,” she whispers when she realizes she shouldn’t have even bothered. 

 

As soon as she’s settled on the end of the bed, she drops her hands in her lap and twiddles her thumbs. Whatever she wants to say, she has to build up a lot of courage to do it. He’s really, really nervous about what has her so upset. “Hey, remember what I said? You can talk to us. About whatever you want,” Bucky reminds her. 

 

“I wanted…to explain—I remembered some—” she stops and breathes. Nice to know she still sucks with words. “Before I start, I don’t want that _look_. I don’t want pity and I don’t want that…sad look you two use on me.” Neither of them can promise her that, so they don’t say a word. She runs with it. “I hate the way you look at me when I remember Hydra shit. Sometimes, I don’t even talk about it, but you still—it’s really a pain in the ass. I know you think it’s your fault, but _stop_. I know you think you left me alone, but I always had you. You were always there.” Absentmindedly, she reaches under her shirt to touch her marks. “In that dark, dark place, you were my sun and moon. You kept me spinnin’. You were my hope. My brain couldn’t remember you, but I think my soul did. That must’ve been the reason why I never let them burn away my marks. Anyone that tried to touch you—your names…I ripped throats out with my bare teeth until they didn’t come for you anymore. So.” She won’t look at them. He wishes she would. Or maybe not. He’s about to break down into tears. “What I mean by this is that you physically weren’t there to rescue me, but don’t think you didn’t help keep me alive.” 

 

“Aren’t we the ones that are supposed to make you feel better? Not the other way around,” Steve teases wetly. “Can you stay with us a little while? Only a second. I need to hold you.” With an amused huff, she crawls toward them and plops down between him and Steve. “I don’t know how it happened,” he whispers when he’s practically plastered himself on her. “How I ended up with a soulmate as strong and beautiful as you.” 

 

Quinn makes a surprised sound. “Bucky, why didn’t you tell me that he’s not as much of a dork as before?” 

 

It cracks Bucky up and, through his laughter, he replies with, “I didn’t wanna overwhelm you.” 

 

“I take back the invitation.” 

 

“You don’t mean that.” 

 

“No,” Steve breathes out and closes his eyes when she presses close. “I don’t.” 

 

 

For the very first time, Quinn stays with them in their room. She actually settles down and drifts off to sleep. Bucky and Steve don't catch a wink themselves. He can't say the same about Steve, but he's afraid to close his eyes and have this turn out to be some bad dream. Plus, he can admit that her beauty blows him away again. 

 

Bucky brushes a piece of hair away from her face because her back is to Steve's chest and she faces him. He stares at the scar that runs down her temple. His sweetheart…evil men have done their worst to tear her down and she's still here. 

 

 _I love you,_ Bucky thinks, and he feels whole again. 

 

\--- 

 

It happens in steps and it sure isn’t easy. 

 

To start, she is Fenrir. Like an animal, the second she knew her previous owners wouldn’t immediately hunt her down, she scrambled to men who had shown her kindness. In the very, very early days, it’s…hard to be in such a cramped place, but she’s desperate to prove her value to them because she doesn’t want to be sent away. They also explain that she was a person, was Quinn Esther Hayden before she was brutalized and turned into an animal. That had been hard to believe, that she’s a person, but Hydra had physically beaten the lesson into her so much that she was scared to hope. She’s still scared to hope. But the more time she spends out of the chair, out of the ice, in a place with not only peace but love, memories start to seep out of the cracks in her mind. Then, there’s the flood and she _remembers_. 

 

And she **is mad as hell**. 

 

Even before Hydra took her, they’d branded her with that name—Fenrir. They made her into a wolf that stalked the world and left a trail of bodies in her wake. They wanted to strike fear into the hearts of their enemies. But she knows that they never expected she would break out of her chains. Like the story of old, she rose up, broke free of the chains around her body and mind, and she desperately, desperately wants to watch Hydra _burn_. 

 

They’re out there. They’ve always been out there. She’s not sure that Steve and Bucky completely understand that. Hydra was shoved out of the shadows and the chain of command is probably in total disarray, but as they say: cut off one head and two more takes its place. They’ll bide their time, heal their wounds—well, they’ll _try_ , but Quinn won’t let them make it too far. She’s _pissed off_. A woman scorned and all that. 

 

But there’s a problem. Two problems actually. Steve and Bucky. They want her to have peace and it makes her feel bad because she doesn’t want it herself—not yet. There is…a ball of pure fury that sits in the center of her chest now. She’s not sure she’s been as much of an animal as she is now. Before, she was a tool. Now, she doesn’t want to do more than sink her teeth into Hydra and rip and tear until there’s not a body for any heads to pop back out of. 

 

She has to leave. 

 

There’s a real mental debate about whether or not she should up and sneak out on them, but they deserve more than that. They deserve an explanation. So, she steals one of their duffels and packs it, takes a deep breath to steel herself, and then heads into the kitchen to face them down. 

 

“Before you start,” she blurts because Steve takes one look at the duffel and hopes to his feet with wide eyes while Bucky tenses up and looks as panicked as Steve. “Let me talk.” She used to be a cold-blooded killer for fuck’s sake and this shouldn’t be as hard as it is. “I have to leave. I don’t want to, but I _have_ to. You have to understand that there’s…this…hatred inside me and it’s too dangerous for me to stay here with it inside me. The only way I can let it out is to make Hydra hurt an infinite times worse than what they did to me.” 

 

“Then we want to be there with you.” Steve walks over in front of her and her resolve immediately starts to crumble. Cold-blooded killer, she reminds herself, but then he takes her face in his hands. “I know you’re the one they hurt and you got every right to some payback—I won’t make you rethink that—but you’re also our soulmate. We want to make those bastards pay as much as you do.” 

 

She’s already down for the count. Weakly, she tries to protest with, “It’s too dangerous.” 

 

"Good thing we have a team to back us up then," Bucky drawls. 

 

\--- 

 

Sometimes, it's easier to think of Fenrir as a separate entity. She's not so naive to think that they truly are. They'll now forever be intertwined, Quinn and Fenrir, but it makes it a little easier to think of that particular mindset as an animal. As she started to take back control from Hydra, she also had the power to shove Fenrir behind bars. And, for the most part, she's been able to keep Fenrir under control. The beast snaps and snarls and howls, sometimes so damn loud, but Fenrir has never not once escaped and taken over… 

 

…until now. 

 

Their first attack on Hydra is a success in the sense that they did actually take down the base, but it's a complete failure when Quinn loses control. She should've known sooner that the second there was blood in the air, Fenrir would catch the scent and foam at the mouth. Quinn's not even sure she was aware the wolf had escaped. One second she was there, in control, and the next the world turns black. 

 

When she does come to, there's a hand pressed to her cheek. A woman's hand. There's sweat on Quinn's brow. Her heart races so fast inside her chest that it almost hurts. She tries to focus on the woman in front of her instead of the confusion over her current state. " _Heel, Fenrir_ ," the woman softly commands in Russian. 

 

That red hair. Her eyes. She’s so much older now, but she’s as beautiful as ever. Always beautiful. “ _Natalia_?” A miracle happens then—the wolf backs down and recedes to the back of Quinn’s mind. 

 

 _“Natasha now_ ,” she corrects with the tiniest smirk. Her hand falls away from Quinn’s cheek and she steps back. There is movement out of the corner of Quinn’s eyes and she twitches. Panic starts to build back up and she doesn’t dare chance a look at Steve and Bucky. It sinks in. Oh God. What did she do? _What did she do? “Calm down_ ,” Natasha whispers. “ _No one’s hurt.”_  

 

Quinn squeezes her eyes shut and swallows hard. _“I lost control.”_  

 

 _“Yes, but I stopped you before anyone was hurt. All that was hurt is your pride, I think._ ” 

 

A deeper breath. This is…familiar. _Natasha_ is…familiar. Quinn remembers that it’s not only Natasha’s physical appearance that is spectacular, but her heart too. They tried to twist her, but she survived. _“Do you remember me?”_  

 

 _“No_ ,” Natasha answers honestly and Quinn can’t help the mournful sound that comes out of her mouth. Quinn shouldn’t have expected more. _“But I suspect that’s probably because of the wipe they did on me.”_  

 

Now Quinn is the one to reach out, touch behind Natasha’s ear where there’s a scar. _“I was so sure I’d lost you_.” It awes Quinn that Natasha survived the wipe. Quinn has a super soldier serum that helped her take the pain. A normal human—well, Natasha's never been normal, so maybe it's not that much of a surprise she made it out. 

 

There's a flicker behind Natasha's eyes, but Quinn can't pinpoint what the emotion is. _"Can you tell me about what happened between us?"_  

 

 _"Later, Little Spider,"_ Quinn murmurs and touches her cheek briefly. _"I can't focus on the past too much or else I'll lose myself in it. It's already happened once today and I don't think anyone wants a repeat of that."_  

 

 _\---_  

 

The whole trip back to the tower, Quinn keeps her mouth shut. Thankfully, Steve and Bucky leave her alone. She hasn't looked at them, either. Couldn't stand to see disappointment in their eyes. As soon as they land, she books it to the nearest vent because Steve already starts to turn, her name on his lips, and she refuses to stay in an elevator with them and their puppy eyes. 

 

Underneath her feet, as she disappears into the vent, she hears Steve shout, "Are you _serious_? Quinn, this isn't how we deal with our problems." Maybe his memory isn't the best in his nineties because she's always run away from her personal problems. 

 

Now, Quinn would happily sleep in an elevator, but she has this problem where her body temperature is already inhumanly warm. Cramped, non-air conditioned vents aren't a fun place to be with that kind of a problem—not to mention she's also in her full uniform. 

 

"Quinn?" Someone that's thankfully not Steve or Bucky questions from below her. She looks between the vent and stares at the man. Oh. That's Doctor Bruce Banner. She's only really heard about him because even with her head somewhat back to normal, she has an extreme lack of trust for doctors. "I promise not to rat you out, but you're kind of a distraction up there and I don't want an explosion in my lab." 

 

Eventually, she'll have to come out. May as well do it now rather than sit and suffer in the heat some more. "Don't you mad scientists like your explosions?" she shoots back when she's down on her feet in front of him. 

 

Banner smiles into his cup of tea. "Not everyone is a mad scientist like Tony." He motions toward his crisp, clean lab and Quinn tries to hold back her wince. "So, care to keep me some company?" 

 

 _This isn't the same as Hydra_ , Quinn reminds herself. Banner is as close to a medical doctor that Steve and Bucky's team has, but his lab is more scientific than medical. There are chemicals and scopes and sprinkled here and there are touches of Banner—stains left behind by coffee, a stereo, empty cups next to beakers, boxes of different kind of teas. 

 

"I have a shower if you need to use it," Banner speaks up and points toward the door which is probably leads to his own personal suite.  

 

"No," she breathes out and strips out of her tactical vest, drops it to the floor, and pushes up the sleeves of her black undershirt. "No, this is fine. I just need—" she doesn't finish because she's not even sure what the hell she needs. 

 

He hums and takes a seat back in front of his scope. "I was pretty sure Jarvis told me you took down the Hydra base without a hitch." 

 

Quinn scoffs as she plops down in a chair herself. "Guess you could say that if you don't count how I lost control and almost killed everyone if Natasha hadn't been there." He doesn't say a word. She tries to breathe past her own disappointment. "I was so sure I was better," she whispers miserably. 

 

"Just because you trip doesn't mean you haven't come far," he points out. 

 

"Yeah? And what do you know about it?" She can't keep the bitchy out of her voice. But seriously, what could some pampered scientist know about what she deals with on a daily basis? He doesn't know how…hard it is to deal with Fenrir. Day in and day out, she rumbles and knocks on the bars, desperate to be free. He doesn't know how much it hurts to fail. 

 

Banner doesn't take her tone to heart. He actually turns to stare at her with a raised brow and looks pretty amused. "You have no idea who I am, do you? They really haven't told you about me?" 

 

"They told me you're a doctor?" 

 

He swipes a tablet off the counter and fiddles around with it a few minutes. He finds what he wants and then pushes the video off his tablet onto a bigger screen next to Quinn. She watches as a…uh, she's not sure what it is exactly. It _looks_ human, but it's enormous and green. It also completely obliterates whatever stands in its way. These are the aliens that Steve, Bucky, and their team took down. She's happy this…whatever was on their side. 

 

"That," Banner points at the pissed off green thing, "is the Other Guy. The Hulk. Me." 

 

Quinn blinks at him. Looks back and forth between him and the video. She doesn't understand. "What…?" 

 

"It's complicated, but it was a bad science experiment. We'll leave it at that." He pauses the video and watches it with what she assumes is bitterness. "I always have to keep a lid on my anger because if I don't then _he_ makes an appearance." Oh. _Oh._ This— _he_ is the ace in the hole that keeps Hydra away from the tower, the one Stark mentioned. "You're not the only one who has to have a lot of self-control." 

 

Damn, and here she was so sure she had it bad. "What's it like?" 

 

"What it's like when I'm behind the wheel and he shouts at me from the backseat or when he's the one behind it and I don't have control?" 

 

She's happy that she's not the only person who thinks of their darker side as a separate entity. "Both? I'm not sure?" Maybe what she really wants is to know that there's someone else who fucks up the same way she did today. "How do you control it?" 

 

"Guess I can let you in on the trade secrets," he teases. 

 

\--- 

 

It may make her a terrible person, but she really, really, really hopes that no one's up when she comes back to the suite. In the shower, she actually debates on whether she wants to be in the same bed with Steve and Bucky. She's terrified that Fenrir will take over in her sleep and that Natasha won't be there to save them this time. Yeah. No. Sleep is not on the menu.  

 

Quinn takes a chair from the kitchen and plops it in front of the window that stretches across the main room of the suite. As far up as they are, she can't see the people below or even see cars, but she can still hear the sounds of the city. There's rain, too. Thunder rolls across the skies. It's nice. 

 

A door opens and she wonders who'll be the brave soul to come and see her. She can't say one would be worse than the other. They've both seriously honed their disappointed faces since the war. 

 

"Go back to bed, Steve," she orders when she hears him head to the kitchen for a chair of his own.  

 

"What? You think you're the only one who can sit around and stew in their shit, Hayden?" He drops down next to her and she looks over at him. He's sweaty but he's wrapped up in a sweater at the same time. He must've had a bad dream about the ice. Neither of them talk about it, but that's bound to be traumatic. 

 

"Sorry," she apologizes. 

 

He waves it off. "'S okay." Then, he settles in and watches the rain with her. 

 

Whether or not it was intentional, with him beside her, it makes her walls start to crumble—but she's never been the best at that anyway. "I didn't even realize what happened until it was too late, but that's not an excuse. I'm sorry I let you both down—" 

 

"What? No, Quinn, you didn't let us down. How could you think that?" He reaches out to take her hand and pauses before their skin touches, waits for her to say no if she wants to. She moves to close the space and take his hand. "Don't be so hard on yourself. You've come so far in such little time." 

 

Her lips purse. "Doesn't feel that way sometimes." She focuses on the way he rubs his thumb across her knuckles. "I was so dead set on this. I didn't even stop to think that this is how I ended up in trouble the first time. I was mad and wanted to hurt people the way I hurt." She smiles bitterly. "Maybe this is karma." 

 

" _Quinn_ ," he complains and she huffs. Normal Steve. He always defends her and Bucky, even when they aren't on their own team. "Are you really about to sit here and defend _Hydra_? Seriously?" Well, when he puts it that way, it does seem kind of silly. "If it'd been me in your situation, if I lost you and Buck, I would've tore apart every person in Hydra with my bare hands and more. You reacted the same way either of us would've." 

 

She's definitely not in the mood to try and beat it into that hard head of his that they're nowhere near as dirty and low as she is. So, she redirects the conversation with, "Why didn't you tell me about Banner?" He hums and raises a brow at her. "That he turns into…y'know—that Hulk or whatever." 

 

He shoots her a pointed look. "We've been a little distracted recently."  

 

"I talked to him. He's…nice. But he's mostly sad, I think." 

 

"Yeah," Steve agrees quietly. "Yeah, he is. From what I saw in his file, he had a decent life before…the accident. I can understand why he's so sad." He squeezes her hand that he still has a hold of. "But you understand him better than any of us ever could, don't you?" 

 

"I talked to him," she repeats. "He has more control than I could ever dream of. So, he said that when I'm up to it—the next base we hit, he'll come with us to take down Hydra. That way, if I lose control…" She takes a deep breath. "I can't hurt the Hulk." 

 

There's a lot of emotions that cross his face. He probably has an internal debate, but he bites back whatever he really wants to say. She knew the second she threw out this plan to Banner that Steve and Bucky would hate it—hate the idea of the Hulk there as a safety precaution. But they can never truly understand what would happen if she woke up one day and they were dead at her feet because she couldn't control the animal. She would tear it all down. She would make _everyone_ hurt, Hydra or not. She would swallow up the world whole before someone probably put her out of her misery and the irony about that isn't lost on her. She's become more of a threat to the public than she ever was as Hydra's pet. And it's all because of love. 

 

"Even after what happened today, you still want to do this? I don't doubt your skills or nothin'—I _know_ you could wipe the floor with me and Bucky any day—but me 'n Bucky can handle it. Hell, if you want us here instead, we have a hell of a team who can deal with Hydra." He pulls her hand up so he can brush a kiss across her knuckles. "I know you've pretty much been doin' it your whole life, but you don't _have_ to fight anymore, Quinn." 

 

Maybe that's true and she doesn't have to bite anymore. But God's to honest truth? She's honestly not sure she knows how to stop. Violence has sunk down inside her so deep that she has no idea where to even start to try and pull it out. Even surrounded by their love, in this safe place, she sometimes feels…claustrophobic. Sometimes for no reason at all, she feels like a wild animal backed into a corner and it takes her all to _not_ bite at someone—even if that someone is Steve or Bucky. 

 

 _It would've been easier if you two put me down_ , she wants to scream at them on the real bad days, and she chokes on it now. Instead, she settles on, "I know, Steve, but I have to do this. Maybe we can wait a little while before the next raid, but…I have to be there." 

 

Steve huffs out a breath. "I knew you'd say that." He leans down to press his forehead to her hand. "You're not alone in this. You're not the only one." After a minute or two, she watches him start to shake. "Don't tell Bucky, but I swear to God, I don't know how to stop fighting either. I don't know how to stop, Quinn," he confesses so quietly that she almost doesn't hear it, even in the dead silence of their suite. 

 

There's a flicker of a memory—her and Steve tied up even closer than they are now. He whispered stories into her mouth and skin. Told her about how, before the serum, sickness never really left him. Every physical illness a person could have, he said, he probably had it. People spat at him for that, told him that he was a burden and should let himself wither away. It made her sad, she remembers, that not only did he have to keep death away, but he also had to prove he had as much a right to exist as anyone else did. The child of a woman fresh off the boat from Ireland, who spent most of his time in bed sick—he came into this world with his fists raised. 

 

The memory comes at her and it's like a sucker punch and she's breathless when she calls out his name. " _Steve_." He looks up at her, tears in his eyes, and she aches for him. She reaches to wrap her arms around his neck and he leans up to return it tenfold. They eventually move over to the couch and she holds onto him while he clutches back as desperately and she nearly cries in relief. 

 

All this time. This _whole damn time._ She'd been scared to death to be close to him because she didn't want to stain him with the blood on her hands. She never even stopped to think that he'd have blood on his knuckles too. 

 

\--- 

 

Bruce recommends meditation and Quinn is extremely hesitant about it at first because it doesn't exactly seem like the smartest idea for her to be stuck in her head for extended periods of time. Yoga is a complete and total disaster because she's flexible but she's not _that_ flexible and she's not really sure she wants to know how Bruce is. She's always been better at the soldier aspect of her missions rather than the spy. Obviously, she's an expert at both, but, yeah. She even tries to literally sit around and drink some of his herbal tea but her mind races too much and she hates tea unless it has an insane amount of sugar—that's the Kentucky in her, Steve and Bucky both say immediately when she complains about it one day. 

 

She has absolutely no idea what possesses her to do it or why it works as well as it does but…her meditation comes in the form of the indoor pool. Maybe it's the memories of her childhood when she'd splash and play with her family, when she'd press sweet kisses to Josie's mouth in the afternoon when no one was around, when she would do the same with Steve and Bucky at whatever bodies of water they happened to stop by in the war. But she starts to think it's more about how when she floats, the world is muted. There's no control needed to float, the water does it for her. No stretches or poses involved. She's completely and totally weightless. There's probably no difference at all between this and what Bruce does, but she spends a lot of time in the pool now.  

 

At the pool is where Natasha seeks her out.  

 

Quinn ducks under the water and swims to the other side of the pool and when she comes back up for air, Natasha is there in a simple black bikini. Quinn's attention is immediately drawn to the raised, puckered scar near her belly button. She's not sure if this was intentionally meant to hurt her, but it does. Natasha takes a seat on the edge of the pool and dips her feet into the water while Quinn rests her arms on the cool tile and stares up at Natasha. 

 

It feels so much like a confession—a goddess who looks down upon her—so that's what she does. She confesses. "They wanted me to sniff out the weakest between you all," she starts. "They told you whoever impressed me most would be by my side on a mission. I was the monster the Red Room said was under your bed, but you all flocked to me. You believed it was some kind of _honor_. I'm not sure if any of you knew your lives were on the line. The other spiders, they all did their dances, tried to entice me. Except for you. You never came to me. After a while, I knew you would be the one to survive. You were the true Black Widow. You waited for me to walk into your web and I did." 

 

"A mark is a mark unless you pour love into it and love in for children," Natasha repeats the mantra that was constantly beaten into her and the other spiders by the Red Room. 

 

"I've never been a widow. A spider. Technically, some people would've considered me a widow after I lost Steve and Bucky in the war, but I turned into an animal not too soon after they went down." Quinn heaves herself up to sit beside Natasha. "I've always been a wolf. More power than stealth. My first instinct is to rip throats out. I've never really stretched it out like you used to. But maybe that's because I've always been impatient." She smiles wryly. "No matter how hard they tried, there were some parts of me buried so deep down that they couldn't completely burn it out. Like how I've always done better with someone than when I'm alone. I think it's probably why we worked so well with each other. Or it could be because the Red Room didn't fry my brain and I started to remember who I was—started to remember that I was a person and not an animal." 

 

"So what happened?" 

 

"Guess I never would've made it in the Red Room because I fell in love with you. I'm not sure if you ever actually did love me or not, but…you cared about me some. After our mission, they wanted to send me back to Hydra. There wasn't anymore I could teach you. It was the first time I ever saw you be selfish. You didn't want to see me leave. I'm not sure who came up with the idea, but we decided the mission would be our last. Went on our mission, but we didn't show up at the rendezvous point." 

 

"But they found us," she assumes. 

 

"They found us," Quinn confirms. "We had a few months with each other, but like I said, I started to remember my past. Maybe I focused so much on my memories that it made me sloppy and that's how they found us. Honestly, I should've known Hydra would do whatever to put their leash back on me." She rubs at her eyes that start to sting with unshed tears. "You were the only widow left. You were too valuable to the Red Room. So, they decided to start over with the both of us, but not before they made me watch you be put in that damn chair. They wanted to teach me a lesson—for if my memories ever came back, I suppose. This is what happens if you love. You stain anyone you touch." 

 

Suddenly, Natasha throws out, "There are wolves, they would say. And there are stories about wolves and girls. Girls in red. All alone in the woods. About to get eaten up. Wolves and girls. Both have sharp teeth." She looks over at Quinn like she's had a realization. "I remembered that before I left the Red Room. You told me that, didn't you?" 

 

Quinn nods. "They wanted me to teach you to be powerful, but you never needed it." She pauses and her voice is hoarse when she picks back up. "I think I've remembered you as much as I did Steve and Bucky. They tried to send me after you when you ran to SHIELD, but I couldn't take the shot on you, so I shot your archer instead. You know I could've shot you in the heart in Odessa and be done with you before I went after the target, but I couldn't do it. I couldn't ever take the shot. And I know this isn't worth much, but I am _so sorry_. Natasha, I'm _sorry_ that I've caused you so much hurt—" 

 

Natasha hauls herself to her feet and moves to turn, but stops. "I can't hold something against you if I don't remember it in the first place. And you wondered if I loved you back then." She reaches down and brushes her hand across Quinn's cheek with a small, sad smile. "From what you've told me, I did. I loved you." Then, she leans down to press a soft kiss to Quinn's forehead. "I think I've always remembered you too, deep down, and it was why I had the courage to run. Thank you, _Puppy_." 

 

 _Puppy_ , Natasha whispers in Russian, and it heals another crack in Quinn's heart. Briefly, she remembers the first time Natasha said that to her, when they practiced ballet with each other, a deadly dance. Quinn had been gentle with her—always gentle with Natasha. And Natasha had teased Quinn, said that the wolf was actually a puppy, but Quinn wonders if it ever dawned on Natasha that she was only ever gentle with her. 

 

\--- 

 

Thor has been explained to Quinn by both Steve and Bucky and the both of them have very different reactions as they talk about him. Bucky looks like he sucked on a shit-ton of lemons beforehand. Steve talks about him like he's a friend. Quinn reasons that Thor is to Steve what Stark Junior is to Bucky and Thor is to Bucky what Stark Junior is to Steve. Well, maybe Steve likes Stark Junior a little more than Bucky apparently likes Thor. Obviously, Quinn's interest is piqued, but she downplays it for Bucky's sake.  

 

It all becomes clear when she meets Thor for the first time and her eyes roll so hard they nearly pop out of her head. She crosses her arms and turns to stare at Bucky with a raised brow. He's immediately on the defense and squints at her. "What?" 

 

"Are you serious? Just 'cause he's stacked doesn't mean Steve's about to elope with Thor to his fancy palace in the sky or whatever." Funny, she's never seen Bucky's face turn that shade of red before, and that even counts the bath in the vineyard where she'd teased him. "Don't be jealous." 

 

"I'm _not_ ," he hisses but his face says otherwise.  

 

 

Apparently Thor came back to Earth because his brother's scepter is nowhere to be found and he needs help to find it before anyone else fucks shit up with it. Quinn's bets are on Hydra and she says as much. Stark Junior heads to the nearest computer to see if he can whip up any definite information. 

 

In the meantime, Quinn watches with amusement as Steve spars with Thor. A lot. She honestly can't blame Steve because Thor's absolute easy on the eyes. Also, it's fun to watch Bucky pout and sulk the whole time. She swears she remembers a rule between them that they can look but all three of them have to talk before they want someone else in on the action. Maybe Bucky's scared he'll be thrown out in the cold because of Thor. She doesn't know. And people actually say that _women_ are the mysteries. 

 

One day, Thor approaches Quinn after he's pinned down Steve a couple of times. "I understand that you are the true match of Steve and James," he starts and holds out a hand to her. "I am Thor. It is truly an honor to meet you." Instead of an actual handshake, he clasps her lower arm instead like they are actually some kind of ancient warriors. 

 

"Quinn," she introduces politely. 

 

"Would you like to go a bout?" He juts a thumb behind him, toward the ring. 

 

She shrugs. "I guess. It won't last that long, though." 

 

He booms with laughter and pats her on the shoulder. "You should have more faith in yourself, my friend—" 

 

Oh. He definitely misunderstood her there. "I meant it would be quick for _you_ ," she elaborates primly and sashays toward the ring. Okay, maybe she wants to show off a little for the boys.  

 

Natasha and her archer, Barton, have seemed to appear out of thin air. Bruce, too, has dropped in on them and it's probably because he needs to come out of his lab before Quinn heads up there and pulls him out by the ear. Steve and Bucky are suddenly shifty. Please, as if it'd take that much time for her to lose control. 

 

The second before someone hits the bell, Quinn smiles at Thor, syrupy sweet. Then, she darts forward quickly to ram her knee in his stomach. It doesn't make him react nearly as much as it would with someone else, so she spins to lock her thighs around his neck and then heaves him over and onto his back while she remains up on her feet.  

 

"Oh, so _that's_ where I learned that from," Natasha chirps. 

 

"Unbelievable," Steve mutters under his breath and covers his face with his hands. "She took him down in two seconds flat and I couldn't even do it once. I'm a disgrace." 

 

Bucky, however, stares at her with half-lidded eyes and doesn't have an ounce of shame when he declares to Steve, "I am so turned on right now." 

 

\--- 

 

The next few raids on Hydra are easy, but that's also because the bases are small. With six other people on her side—and a seventh who is their ace in the hole—she doesn't really spend that much time in battle-mode because it's over in the blink of an eye. 

 

Quinn and Bruce should've planned better because the first time the team ends up too overwhelmed by Hydra's defense and they call in a Code Green, no one really stopped to think about how to calm down the Hulk once it's over.  

 

Someone comes up with the oh-so-brilliant plan to try and beat the Hulk into submission and Quinn almost loses control herself. The Hulk may swat them away like flies, maybe it doesn't even hurt him, but the fact that they even try that method almost makes her sick. Her whole body aches with the phantom pains of Hydra's submission techniques. 

 

So when everyone has been knocked down and tries to recover, Quinn storms in front of the Hulk with no fear at all. If he crushes her like an ant under his boot then so be it, but she knows that Bruce is in there somewhere. He's helped her learn control, but he needs to start to take his own advice and reel in the Hulk when he's behind the wheel instead.  

 

Wordlessly, she balls her hand up into a fist and holds it directly out in front of her. The Hulk snorts and starts to rumble in offense and someone shouts her name, but then she unclenches her hand and turns her hand up so her palm faces him—the universal sign for _stop_. The Hulk still huffs and puffs like a wild animal, but he quiets down and then honest to God reaches out to press his palm to hers. It looks kind of funny, how enormous his hand is compared to hers, so she smiles a little. Then, she moves her hand so her palm faces the sky now, and he follows that movement too. 

 

"No one left to smash anymore," she explains to him. "Time to sleep now." No one says a word, but she can feel their shock when the Hulk backs down and starts to shrink. A few minutes later, Bruce is in his place. 

 

 

A little later, on the way back to New York, Bruce takes off the headphones someone shared with him and stares at her. She can see the bitterness and frustration in his eyes and it's almost like a reflection of herself for a minute. "How'd you do it?" 

 

Everyone's attention is on her. She's not sure how to explain it in a way that won't make Steve and Bucky upset, but she wants to be honest and she'll deal with them later. "You show someone who's only known pain and violence that there's peace and they'll do just about whatever to have more of it. Doesn't matter if it's a big green alter ego or the walls inside your own head put there by years of brainwashing—you'll overcome it all if it means no one will ever hurt you again." 

 

Bruce reaches out to take her hand and smiles, a little wobbly, but still a smile. "Thanks, kid." 

 

 

And a lot later, when she walks out of the bathroom, the last to take a shower, both Steve and Bucky pounce. They've probably itched to hold her since the second she answered Bruce's question. They pull her to bed and she relaxes into their kind touches, the way they pepper kisses across whatever skin is open and within reach—her lips, her cheeks, her eyelids when she closes her eyes, her hands. 

 

"You call us your sun and moon. I wish you knew exactly how goddamn much we've needed you in our lives," Bucky whispers into her mouth. "There ain't no word to describe you. Beautiful, amazing, even angelic—those don't come close to explaining how fucking _good_ you are." 

 

Quinn's not sure if she can completely believe that yet, but she soaks up the peace and love. Inside her own mind, the beast quiets and settles. Maybe that's what Fenrir needed this whole time. Hurt's been all Quinn and Fenrir have known for seventy years and the immediate response to anyone is to hurt them before they hurt her. All the wolf needed was to know she's safe. 

 

***** ***** *****  

 

Both Quinn and Bruce stumble over their respective inner monsters and they form a kind of bond over that. 

 

Somehow, Quinn becomes the designated person to calm down the Hulk. A person would think that with how much Tony complains about how he's about to lose one of his close friends to her that he'd try to work with the Hulk, but no. Really, it's easy as hell if people would try it out. All she does is repeat what she did the first time. Glorified fist bump, that's all it is. Calms the Hulk down quick and easy. 

 

Fenrir is a whole other brand of monster. 

 

To put it in Fenrir terms, Steve and Bucky are mates—soulmates. She acknowledges that and feels safe around them. And the tower could probably be considered her den or whatever. So Fenrir is completely controllable when she's in the tower. 

 

That doesn't mean shit when Quinn's out in the field. In the search for information about the whereabouts of Loki's scepter, sometimes they come across…reminders…hidden in the bases—reminders of Quinn's brutalization. A lot of times now, she can sense Fenrir's restlessness and knows how to avoid an outbreak.  

 

But the real bad shit—secrets so shameful and dark that she wished she could physically bury them the way she does in her mind and heart—there's no possible way she can stop Fenrir. It must be a way to cope…or not cope, she supposes, since Fenrir handles the fallout that Quinn doesn't know how to deal with. 

 

Fenrir's worst outbreak happens when they find out about the baby. 

 

Let it be known for the record that it's weird as hell to check back into reality in the arms of the Hulk. The team doesn't think it, but he's actually pretty careful with her when he does have to deal with Fenrir. It feels like an all encompassing hug, but it's tight enough that not even her enhanced strength could break free. She's always wondered if Bruce realizes how much more control he has than he thinks because it takes willpower to make sure the Hulk doesn't squeeze the life out of her. 

 

They must be a real sight with how the Hulk is seated on the ground, legs crossed, and holds her up in the air. It reminds her of how a little kid holds their most cherished teddy bear close to their chest. There's no one else around that she can see except for Steve and Bucky who wait for Quinn to come back. 

 

Quinn feels…blank. She hopes it stays that way. This was a tiny skeleton she wished would've stayed in the closet. She thinks about safe houses Hydra's collected over the years because she'll need one soon. There's no way Steve and Bucky would want to keep her after this—especially when they find out that this was one of the very first memories to come back to her. 

 

"I'm okay now, buddy," she croaks and squirms around in the Hulk's arms to put his attention back on her. "You can sleep now. And thanks for the damage control." As soon as her feet touches down, she heads toward the plane. Doesn't look back to make sure the Hulk stands down. Sure as hell doesn't look back to see Steve and Bucky. 

 

 

No one bothers her on the trip back to New York. Steve and Bucky let her have some distance. She _hates_ the tension that's in the air—the sadness and pity and hurt. Fenrir still hasn't completely settled and these cramped quarters don't help. She feels itchy in her skin. Truthfully, she really wishes she could check back out because this—she can't handle this. 

 

Sam Wilson waits for them on the roof. Wilson, who is a counselor at the V.A. Wilson, who was back in D.C the last time she checked. Wilson, who one of her soulmates probably called to…to… 

 

The tether inside her snaps, but Fenrir doesn't take control. She would probably feel shocked and relieved if she wasn't so _pissed off_. She whirls around and if looks could kill, her soulmates would be buried back in ice. 

 

Her mouth opens but Steve shoves past Bucky, squares his jaw, and snarls, " _No_. Don't look at us that way. Don't you _dare_. This is the last straw. We can't sit around and watch you suffer anymore. You need to talk to someone. You'll listen to him, Quinn. He knows people that can help you deal with this—" 

 

"I've dealt with it, Steve," she screams. Jesus Christ, she wants to stomp her feet like a damn toddler. "I buried it the way they buried her and you should do the same goddamn thing." They both suck in sharp breaths and look horrified. Good. They _should be_. They should be scared of her. She's a wild animal that they should've put down months ago. "You don't get to tell me what to do. Neither of you. You're not the one that—" she swallows hard and tries to blink back the tears. Her voice cracks when she shouts, "You're not the one that carried her for nine months. You didn't pray to God every damn day and night that they'd spare her. You didn't beg and plead and do whatever the fuck you could do to try and make men at least pity you so they'd let you keep her. You didn't spend hours and hours in labor and look at that beautiful baby girl's face with her dark hair and blue eyes only to have her snatched out of your arms because she didn't belong to the right man." Whatever it is inside her—she can't explain it. But she cracks. She splinters. She won't ever be whole. "You don't get to tell me a goddamn thing because neither of you were there, because _both of you were dead_ ," she screams and she wants to tear someone apart with her bare teeth so she turns and runs before there's a bloodbath. 

 

 

Fresh air is what Quinn craves, so she pops a squat on the roof of the tower and watches New York. It would probably be better to leave the tower, walk around the city, but she's too damn exhausted to do that. Hell, at this point there's not much that doesn't make her tired. Just to breathe is a battle. 

 

She doesn't know how much time she spends alone, but she should've known that someone would hunt her down. Dirty move for Bucky to come up here when she's tired and doesn't really have much left in her to kick up a fuss. He drops down behind her, puts her between his open legs, and wraps his arms around her. A lot like what the Hulk did but this is definitely more intimate than that and it hurts a whole lot. 

 

"If you want to leave then you should leave. We won't chase after you," he starts shakily. "But you should know we would've let Schmidt have the world if it meant you would've never had to deal with this. We've loved you always and love you now, but we never stopped to think about how we stabbed you in the back and how that'd make you feel. I'm sorry we forced you to sit here, play nice, stare us in the face while you've hated us the whole time—" 

 

"I don't hate you, Buck," she breathes out. "You know I love you both." 

 

He gives one hysterical laugh. "Why? How the hell can you after all we've done to you?" He says he wants her to leave but he only holds her closer. "The second we touched you, we marked you. We should've known all there was for you was pain, but we were selfish fuckin' bastards. That's all we've ever been. I'm sorry you were tied to us this way. I'm sorry—empty words, but I mean it. _I'm sorry_." 

 

Isn't that a kick in the head? He's convinced that _they're_ the ones who marked _her_ when it's so obviously the other way around. Fenrir? No. They should've went ahead and named her Death because that's what she marks people with when she dares to love them. Her love is not clean and kind. Her love is nasty and dark and death-ridden. 

 

"It didn't take much more for them to break me," she admits. "I wanted them to burn her out of my memories. I didn't want to remember her. I didn't want the pain anymore. I think that's when I stopped bein' a person." 

 

 

Quinn doesn't leave the roof and doesn't catch a wink of sleep. She's never needed much of it anyway. Anyway, once the sun's up, someone else comes on the roof. She doesn't know that footstep pattern. She looks over her shoulder and watches a woman take a seat down next to her. She kicks off her heels, drops her briefcase, and curls her legs underneath her while she watches the city beside Quinn. 

 

"My name is Brandi Bratton," the woman starts quietly. "I lost him in a car accident. It was my fault." 

 

Quinn closes her eyes and a tear slides down her cheek. 

 

 

On the third day, Quinn heads back down to Steve and Bucky. She crawls into bed and the both of them curl around her.  

 

Finally… _finally_ , for the first time in seventy years, Quinn starts to grieve.  

 

 

The therapy appointment makes her tired. She's only had one in the week after Doctor Bratton first talked to Quinn and she has absolutely no idea how she'll be able to deal with _three_ a week like the doctor wants. She feels bad for Doctor Bratton because all Quinn did today was bust out into tears. She's done that a lot this week—so much that she's shocked she has any water left in her to let out. Okay, she can admit that It is a little cathartic. 

 

The appointments have also made her more talkative than ever before. If one considers a constant stream of apologies as talkative. Once she can feel more than exhaustion and sadness then she'll probably explode into flames from embarrassment. Steve and Bucky tell her that she doesn't have to be sorry so much that it's become a mantra. It won't stop her, but the point stands. 

 

"I'm sorry that I didn't tell you," Quinn murmurs in bed. "She was your daughter as much as she was mine." She's between them both, has kind of taken up that spot since she started to sleep in their bed. They lace their hands together and rest them on her stomach. "I don't blame you, okay? I'll never ever not love y'all either. But I don't want you to hurt. I don't want you to look at me every day and feel sorry. That's no way to live. So, if you want me to leave, I will. You buried your soulmate and you shouldn't have to watch a stranger walk around in her skin." 

 

"I can't believe you still don't understand," Steve laments and presses his nose to her head. "Even after all these years awake, we were never able to bury you. Besides, neither of us came out of that ice the same. We're a bunch of strangers that still fell in love with each other through all the shit." 

 

*******  

 

Sometimes, especially after therapy appointments, Quinn needs space. She's also started to feel stifled in the tower, too. So, she's started to venture back out into the world to help combat that. It was bound to happen eventually. It isn't real practical anyway, to spend forever locked away in a tower even if it is with her princes. Still, she's not as impatient as she used to be. Just in case, to be extra safe, she makes sure to take baby steps. So, she heads out when it's real, real late and there's not many people out and about. Steve and Bucky complain about it, but for the love of God she's a deadly ex-assassin. People need to be afraid of _her_ , not the other way around. 

 

Anyway, that's how she stumbles across the puppy…or so Quinn assumes it's a puppy because she's never actually had a pet before so she doesn't know how to accurately estimate dog years. Neither does she have a clue about whether it's a little lady or boy but she thinks it's a female? But she's very sure it's a pitbull. Jesus, she's so tiny, and it's in a bad way—the underfed way. Not to mention she's so dirty that Quinn has absolutely no idea what color her fur is supposed to be. Someone threw a chain around her neck and locked it up around the bottom of a dumpster in some back alley. She's tried to squirm out, but it only made the chain dig deeper into her neck. 

 

Well, now that Quinn's spotted her…it would be plain cruel to leave her chained up this way. There shouldn't be any problem if Quinn breaks the chains, nope, not one bit. Quinn takes a few cautious steps toward the animal who has obviously spotted Quinn now too. Her ears flatten against her head and she growls in warning. 

 

"Ain't gonna hurt you, honey," she soothes and holds a hand out. She thinks she's heard somewhere that you should let them sniff your hand? "Just wanna help you out with that nasty chain, okay?" Quinn doesn't stop and continues to approach, her hand held out. It doesn't matter if she's bitten or not because she's dealt with physical pain a lot worse and her body would probably burn out any rabies. Sickness doesn't happen to super soldiers—she hopes, anyway. Huh. Food for thought for Bruce. 

 

The puppy sees that Quinn won't back down, so she immediately drops down on her belly and curls in on herself, whimpers. "Oh, sweetheart, _no_ ," Quinn whines herself. "No, I don't wanna hurt you, but I sure as hell want to hurt whoever did this to you." She carefully nudges her fingers underneath the chain and tries to pull it as far away from the dog before she easily snaps it in half. "There." Quinn nods to herself. "All better." Then, because she can't help it, she scratches between the puppy's ears. 

 

Quinn moves back to her feet and stares at the animal who watches Quinn back. Quinn is officially in a pickle now because— _come on_ , there is absolutely no way she can let this puppy run back home to owners that so obviously abused her and left her to die. Oh, and she could use some food and water. Is there any place open this late? Probably but Quinn doesn't want the puppy to scram while she heads inside a store. Wait a second. Barton has a stray of his own, she thinks. He could have some food. 

 

"A sleepover wouldn't hurt," Quinn debates with herself. Fuck, who's she kidding? There's no debate. The second she saw the puppy, her fate was sealed. 

 

 

Quinn has no idea how hurt the pup is, so she carries her all the way back to the tower. Before the elevator doors open, she looks up and tosses out to Jarvis, "Hey, do you know how to clean out her cuts?" 

 

Immediately, Jarvis answers, "It seems that Captain Rogers left his tablet out by the couch. You'll find that I've uploaded canine wound care to it." 

 

"Thanks," she replies absentmindedly because she's now opened the door to their suite. "Good," she whispers to both herself and the pup. "No one's up." Steve and Bucky had to do a lot of official superhero business today and were wiped out, so it makes sense they'd be in bed already. One of them likes to wait up, but she picked the perfect day to sneak in a stray. "How 'bout we clean you up, huh?" 

 

True to his word, there's a bunch of information about dogs that's been uploaded to the tablet. She has to scramble a do it yourself recipe for pet-friendly shampoo, but thankfully Stark Junior keeps them fully stocked. It definitely takes some elbow grease, but her coat is actually supposed to be white. She's quiet as a mouse the whole time and Quinn's not sure if it's because of abuse or she's just a smart cookie and knows that Quinn is trying to be sneaky. Also, the chain didn't dig in too, too deep. The cuts should be healed up in no time. 

 

While Quinn sets up a bowl of water in the kitchen for the pup, there's a quiet vibration from the tablet and a message from Jarvis that reads: _I've_ _requisitioned_ _some of Agent Barton's dog food and have left it at your front door. Have a good night, Miss Hayden._  

 

She huffs and shakes her head with a smile. "Jarvis, I'll take you over your pa any day." 

 

Quinn flops down on the couch and runs a hand across her face. What the hell is she supposed to do now? Not much, what with the hour it is. Maybe she can drop her off early when the closest pound opens up. Yeah, that way she won't run back to her asshole owner that better pray they never cross paths with Quinn. 

 

Not more than ten minutes pass before Quinn's plus one trots into the room and hops up on the couch. She sniffs around a few seconds before she plops down, stretches out, and settles her head in Quinn's lap. 

 

Guess she's about to be a permanent plus one. 

 

 

The bedroom door creaks open and Quinn startles awake. Shit, she must've dozed off. The puppy is still underneath her hand, fast asleep. Briefly, she panics, but Steve and Bucky have repeatedly told her she's allowed to have whatever she wants. Should she shamelessly use her seventy years of no autonomy to force her soulmates into letting her keep a dog? Yes. Yes, she should. 

 

Bucky shuffles out before Steve and stops—probably when he spots her on the couch. From his position, he can't see that she's awake or the newest addition. Fondly, he murmurs, "Baby doll, you have to quit fallin' asleep on the couch." He moves toward her, probably to pick her up and take her to bed, and she makes a face. Time to face the music. 

 

When he circles around to the front of the couch, he stops dead in his tracks. Quinn smiles as meekly as she can and also bats her eyes a tiny bit. Bucky's eyes move back and forth between her and the dog…who is also now awake and her tail wags so hard it thumps on the couch. 

 

Finally, Bucky decides on, "Huh." There's a pause and she tries not to keep up the sweetness while she internally panics. Maybe this pushes it too far. "You name her yet?" he questions casually and moves to run his flesh hand across her back. 

 

"No," Quinn answers quietly. She's not sure she should bother yet. 

 

"She needs a name, don't she?" He says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world and she takes that as a yes from him. 

 

Quinn snatches a fistful of his shirt and tugs him down so she can peck him on the cheek. She can't show much more thanks than that since her lap is full of dog. "Thank you," she breathes out and outright grins. "Does this mean you're on my side when Steve finds out?" 

 

"You actually think he'll put up a fight?" Bucky scratches the dog between the ears and her tongue lolls out. "With how cute you two look with each other? Yeah, I bet he won't say a word about it." 

 

 

Steve rubs at his eyes and stares at Quinn and Bucky who have a pitbull stretched out so she's settled between them both. "What's her name?" 

 

Bucky shoots her the look that's universally _told you so_. Quinn rolls her eyes at him. "Uh, I don't know." Quinn scratches their new pet behind her ear and she pants happily. "What about, um—" she hums. "Okay, how's Deanna sound?" 

 

There's a bark in response so Deanna it is. 

 

\--- 

 

After yet another chat with Bruce—and a visit from Stark Junior because apparently he and Bruce are science bros, whatever that is, and he's upset that he doesn't see Bruce nearly as much anymore because of her—Quinn walks into the suite and spots a very shirtless Bucky. Deanna doesn't immediately sprint toward her so she must be out on a walk with Steve. Anyway, Bucky doesn't notice her, but that's not new. Silence has become a second nature to her, so when she doesn't think about it, she usually comes back inside without a sound and almost always scares Bucky and Steve half to death. 

 

Bucky must've just stepped out of the shower since there's a towel in hand. His hair drips and she's definitely momentarily distracted as she watches it drip down his very extremely toned chest. Steve used to be the broadest between the three of them, but now Bucky's sprinted ahead and taken first place. He's—what do they call it nowadays? He's built like a brick shithouse. When he throws the towel onto the couch and starts to roll his shoulders, face pinched with pain, her attention drops to the metal arm. 

 

The metal arm is, quite literally, a work of art. To be completely honest, Bucky's what makes it a masterpiece, but that's not the point. For some reason she can't even fathom, he tries to hide it from her a lot. She's not sure if he's aware of it or not, but he's a sleeve lover these days. He always makes faces when it whirs, self conscious. Maybe she could understand why he doesn't walk around shirtless all the time since the area where skin meets metal is extremely scarred, but like she said. He's absolutely beautiful. 

 

 _And_ he's in pain. Probably in more pain that he'll admit to. She's never seen him look so uncomfortable or roll his shoulder that way. He's the exact same as Steve—cares about every other person except himself. The both of them are completely hopeless. 

 

Wordlessly, Quinn moves into view and stands in front of him. Automatically, he tenses up, opens his mouth, but she reaches out to press her hand to his chest, over his heart. His mouth snaps shut and she hears his teeth clatter. She doesn't look at his face. She watches her hand, moves it up and over so it brushes across the raised skin of his scars. When her hand reaches the metal, it surprises her a little, that it's so warm. The plates immediately open and shift and whir and she hears Bucky swallow hard. 

 

"You've never said how you lost it," she realizes and glances at him from underneath her lashes for a moment before she looks back and admires him some more. "Didn't want to push you to talk about it. Don't want to do that now. I'm curious, but you don't have to tell me what happened." 

 

"Lost it when we took our swan dive," he explains wryly. "They said I was lucky I lost my arm and not somethin' more important like my head. Sure didn't feel lucky when I woke up in the worst pain in my entire life and with only one arm." 

 

She tuts at his tone. "You _are_ lucky." Quieter, she adds, "I'm lucky, too. That you're here with me." She can't help but lean forward and brush a soft kiss over his scars. " _My moon_ ," she whispers in Russian. " _I forgot how beautiful you are_." 

 

" _Natasha's been teaching us Russian_ _a long time_ _before you came back in the picture,_ " he points out and the Russian is choppy—definitely an American speaking—but it still makes her cheeks heat up. At least she's not the only one whose face is red. 

 

"It doesn't make what I said any less true," she shoots back. "So why do you hide it? Do you really think some scars or a metal arm would make me scram? Because, Buck, I have my own scars too. Here." She takes a step back and pulls her shirt up and over her head, tosses it on the couch with the towel. "I have my own scars, too." She turns around, puts her back to him, pulls her hair over her shoulder, and bares her back to him. For a solid minute, she swears he doesn't even breathe and sure doesn't touch the scars that litter her back. "Buck?" 

 

"Yeah, Quinn?" 

 

"Gonna touch me or stand there with your mouth open?" 

 

This is actually very new for her because she's…kept a physical barrier between herself and them. Her mental walls have dropped, but they haven't done more physically than cuddle. She's kissed them on the cheeks some. But she's never ever stripped down in front of them. Maybe she was afraid to show her own scars too and never realized it. 

 

A shiver runs down her spine when the tips of his fingers brush across a scar. She doesn't have any recent ones because she's not completely sure her rapid rate of healing would let that happen and she hasn't been so sloppy as to be hurt recently. There are only a few on her back, but they were from when she was freshly kidnapped, when they wanted to test the extent of her abilities. It took a kick—well, a lash of a whip before the serum kicked into overdrive. 

 

"You can't scare me away, Barnes," she murmurs as his fingers dance across her back now, follow the lines of her scars. She looks over her shoulder at him and smiles warmly. "You're pretty much stuck with me now." 

 

"Quinn?" 

 

"Yeah, Buck?" 

 

"I really want to be the first one to kiss you this side of the century." Competitive assholes, the both of them. "Can I?" Quinn spins around and throws her arms around his shoulders. She tries to pull him down and answer him with actions, not words, but he huffs in amusement and doesn't move. Instead, he reaches up to take her cheeks in his mismatches hands. Fondly, he teases, "Still so damn impatient." 

 

Quinn leans forward and slots her lips over his which doesn't exactly help her case of proving she's _not_ impatient. She decides not to say a word about how it's actually been seventy years of her waiting. She just closes her eyes, presses as close as possible, and relishes the taste of him. His arms drop down and wrap around her waist and her heart races inside her chest. She squeezes her eyes shut tighter to hold back the tears of happiness. 

 

It has been such a long, long time. 

 

 

 

"Hey, Buck," Steve shouts when he makes it back to the suite. "How come I had to drop Deanna off at Clint's? What's he need to babysit for?" Quinn can hear him start to move back toward the bedroom where she and Bucky are holed up. "You planning on doing something—" he opens the door and his eyes widen comically. "Oh," he whispers when he takes in both her and Bucky. She can't really blame Steve because her and Bucky are tied up together, the both of them naked as the day they were born. 

 

"He was plannin' on doing me. Multiple times." Bucky snorts and starts to giggle into the pillow like the mature adult he is. She slaps him on the ass in retaliation and he yelps. "Get naked and get your ass in bed so you can do me too," she orders Steve. 

 

"Jesus, Quinn, the least you could do is take me on a date first" the little shit-head snarks and yet he throws off his shirt like it's on fire. 

 

"Baby, I don't need to take you on a date. You're a sure thing," she sasses right back. 

 

When Steve crawls into bed with them, Quinn welcomes him with open arms. She pulls him down so she can press her lips against his. He sighs happily into her mouth and then presses her down into the mattress a little more. 

 

"Sorry, but Bucky beat you to the first kiss of the century," she admits when he leans away from her. 

 

Steve smiles and bumps his forehead to hers. "Hey, as long as there's plenty more to come, I could really care less." 

 

"Yeah, Steve, there's definitely a hell of a lot more to come." 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **SPOILER ALERT**  
>  Quinn was pregnant when Hydra kidnapped her. Hydra allows her to carry the baby to term in hopes that it'll be Steve's baby and they'll have a super soldier of their own. However, the baby is Bucky's and is taken away from Quinn. This actual scene isn't detailed, but Quinn talks about it. There is a lot of grieving over the loss of the baby.


	4. Subspace!Quinn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I don't know how long this particular prompt has been in my inbox. I'm sorry to the poor soul that sent it to me because it's been so long probably, but just know that you're the real hero here because you gave me the perfect excuse to write some porn.  
> I really didn't expect this to end up being 7.7k words of pure smut, but I'm happy it did because I've been on a hiatus and porn always bitters people up. So, I hope you guys like it! Make sure to heed the tags because, damn, this got filthy real fucking fast.  
> By the way, the prompt was:  
>  _"i want to see Quinn being so relieved Bucky is back not only because he is alive but because she can stop trying to fill both her role and Bucky's in Steve's life and i just want to see her let go and be completely submissive to Bucky like subspace submissive and Steve realizing how much she has been doing for him"_

There is so much that’s different about Quinn these days, but it wasn’t like he hadn’t expected that when he decided to follow after his soulmates in this brand new world they've found themselves in. Between the three of them and the seventy years they spent apart from each other, none of them could stay the same, not really. But ever since she walked up to stand next to him on that crowded street in Bucharest, took his hand, and walked him back to his apartment while she warned him about the police raid in the works, he’s noticed that there’s a new heaviness to her that was never there before. No, wait, technically it was always there because she's had to deal with a lot, even before she met Bucky and Steve, but she never seemed so hardened.

It takes a few months after that last nasty confrontation with Stark before Bucky understands what’s to blame for the new chip on her shoulder. Well, actually, there are a lot of different problems which…is probably the worst problem of them all—that she has to carry so much on her shoulders with little to no help at all with the burden. It makes sense, now that Bucky thinks a little harder about it. Quinn, she’s never been much of a talker when it comes to herself, so she doesn’t drop too much information about how she spent her time while they were in—and in his case, out of—the ice, but she hasn’t actually really needed to say much. In the two years he spent away from them, he’s read all there is to read about Doctor Quinn Esther Hayden and what she’s been up to over the past seven decades. Hell, he’s even read some scientific articles that speculate how her serum works to stop the aging process.

Honest truth of the matter is that Bucky can’t ever understand what it must be like in her shoes. The loss of loved ones hurts as it is, especially seventy years’ worth of it, but add on the fact that she’ll experience that loss for hundreds of more years? To know that the world will wither and crumble around you while you remain in pristine condition? Yeah, that stress has to cause a hell of a lot of harm to someone’s psyche. There’s also the fact that she won’t ever not blame herself for how she was never able to save Bucky from Hydra—as if she hadn’t saved him back on that helicarrier. Guilt’s no doubt eaten away at her even faster since she turned her back on Stark for them.

Quinn has this problem where she doesn’t want to bleed on anyone else. Technically, she’s always had that problem, but it’s even worse now that she’s a doctor. She’s more than happy to tend to and care for the hurts of others and yet when it comes to her own needs, if she ever starts to crack at the seams, she stitches it up messy and hopes for the best—no. Shit, not even that comes close to what she does. No, Quinn doesn’t even bother to patch herself up anymore these days. Whether she’s conscious of it or not, she’s subconsciously convinced the super soldier serum applies to both physical and mental health and that it she leaves it alone, it’ll eventually heal.

These wounds of Quinn’s, they’ve started to fester. Emotional pain, that doesn’t vanish with a super soldier serum—Bucky knows that best. She’s stomped her stress and pain and troubles down and down and down some more. This pressure has started to build up over time—how much time, he’s not sure, but it’s there and it’s a real threat now. Quinn’s been ready to blow since they came to Wakanda and Bucky unfortunately doesn’t realize it until it’s almost too late.

Both his soulmates are a couple of hotheads, that’s for damn sure, and how they’ve lasted with those fiery tempers and not ended up divorced by now, he doesn’t know. When the door opens to their personal suite that’s courtesy of T’Challa, Steve and Quinn are already at each other’s throats. Bucky has no idea what happened, but he assumes the mission somehow went sideways. They’ve started missions back up and maybe they’re rusty or maybe Quinn’s started to crack so much that it bleeds into her work, but Steve’s on her ass about it now. Usually, Steve always starts out nice because he never nitpicks just to nitpick, but when Quinn has it in her head that someone’s out to baby her, she’s almost always immediately on the defense. Quinn on the defense puts Steve on the defense, too. He’s not sure how he feels about the fact that those hot Irish tempers of his soulmates haven’t dwindled the littlest bit over the years.

Yet another bad Quinn habit is that when a person tries to make Quinn talk about her problems, they pretty much have to pull her teeth out before she finally spits it out. Bucky can’t try to come at her in such a direct way—Steve’s already tried and look how it worked out for him. The best Bucky can think to do at this point is take Quinn out of her head for a little bit. He knows exactly how he can do that, but…he hasn’t actually done this for Quinn—or Steve, for that matter—since the war, he thinks. He hopes he doesn’t fuck it up. She’s become so much more dominant these days, automatically takes up leadership even with Steve, but there were times in the war that he could make her putty in his hands. He could make her float, he knows, and hopes he can do that for her now. The least she deserves is a damn break.

The second that Bucky walks out from back in the bedroom, he can practically _feel_ the hackles on Quinn raise, and the tension in the air thickens. She won’t try to back talk yet, not until she hears what he has to say, but she’s ready for him with her teeth bared. Bucky moves to plant himself between Quinn and Steve, which successfully cuts them off mid-bitch session. He turns to stare at Quinn dead in the eyes and asks, “Do you trust me?” Quinn hesitates. She’s confused about where the question came from, but she does nod nonetheless. Either he wasn’t that clear about where’s he headed or she doesn’t remember, so he repeats with a little more emphasis, “Do you trust me, baby girl?” For added measure, he moves his hand up to cup her cheek.

Quinn’s physical reaction to the question is immediate—her breath hitches, pupils slowly start to blow out, and her cheeks turn pink. For a second, she zones out, probably remembers the few times he’s broken out that nickname on her. Still, she’s tense as hell and he can _hear_ her think. She thinks too much as it is. So, Bucky steps closer to her and moves his hand to her mouth, rubs his thumb across her bottom lip. Then, so she really knows he’s serious about this, he moves his hand down to press at the base of her throat. Her eyes flutter close and she whines lowly in the back of her throat. Since his flesh hand is all he has now, he can feel her pulse pick up.

Suddenly, she realizes what she did and her eyes snap open. “Bucky,” she squawks and tries to stumble back from him. He follows. “Oh my God, no. No. What are—no. You don’t have to do that—”

Bucky moves his hand around to the back of her neck and stops her in her tracks. “Quinn, look at me,” Bucky demands quietly and she does. He can see how vulnerable she feels now. He thinks that she wants to drop but she’s too scared to do it. “Let me take over here. You know you can trust me, don’t you?” That was apparently all she needed to hear. As exposed as she feels, her shoulders slump and she tilts her head back to expose her throat more. A declaration, loud and clear, that she trusts Bucky. He moves his hand out of the way so he can lean forward and press a kiss to her throat. “Thank you.” Because even after all these years, she’ll trust him to do this. “Go wash up for me now.”

“Okay,” she murmurs dazedly and turns around to follow the order.

When Bucky turns around to face down his other soulmate, Steve’s brows are knitted in confusion or concern or both as he watches Quinn disappear back to the bedroom that the bathroom’s attached to. “Are you sure about this?” Steve chews the inside of his mouth. “It isn’t the same as it was with me. Quinn’s always been the one in control. I don’t think she knows how to do this—”

“With you, yeah, she’s always in control ‘cause she knows that’s what you want outta her.” Steve’s whole expression drops and Bucky shakes his head. That’s not what he meant. “No, don’t take it that way, Steve. It isn’t your fault here. It isn’t anyone’s. It—she never put it out there to you because, most of the time, I think she does actually like the control. You know how little of it she’s had in her life.” Steve nods slowly but doesn’t look any less upset with himself. “Only reason I know about this is because, after the first time she was with us and we went that way with it—after the first time she saw you drop, she wanted to try it with me. But she never wanted to take the attention away from you, so that’s why we only did it a few more times. You were always busy with debriefs at the SSR.”

"Why now then?"

"Because she's wound up and stuck in her head and needs an out," he answers honestly.

Steve frowns and warns that, "This is only a temporary fix, Buck."

"I know." He sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and Steve watches the movement in rapt attention. "I know that, but it'll help her calm down a little. She really, really needs that now. You've seen how she's been since we made it here."

"Yeah," Steve whispers with a bitter smile. "Guess I haven't been the best husband, huh?"

Jesus, Steve and Quinn are made for each other with the way they beat themselves up. “Don’t start that on me now.” Bucky reaches around to clasp the back of Steve's neck and watches how Steve responds the exact same way Quinn did. Good to know Bucky hasn’t lost his touch. "We'll talk later. But now the two of us need to focus on Quinn, understand?"

"Yes, sir," Steve answers immediately and breathlessly.

"Take some time to wash up, too—after Quinn's done in the shower."

-

As Quinn and Steve pass by each other at the bathroom door, Steve stops to take her hand for a brief moment and kiss the scar on her temple. "Sap," she remarks fondly and kisses him on the cheek before he disappears to take a shower.

Bucky’s back is pressed to the headboard and when Quinn’s eyes land on him, she nearly trips over her own two feet. She stops at the foot of their bed and awkwardly shifts back and forth on her feet. There’s still a pretty pink flush to her cheeks, but the daze of the effect from his brief moment of control must’ve worn off some in the shower. She’s in no more than a black sports bra and her panties and he’s seen her in a lot less, but she rubs her upper arm, uncomfortable with the exposure. Maybe Quinn honest to God doesn’t like to submit anymore.

Bucky decides to check with, “What’s the word?” If she wants to use it then she’ll use it.

Quinn’s cheeks slowly start to darken more. “Bucky, I don’t want you to think you have to do this for me—”

“I won’t force you to do somethin’ you don’t want to. You can tap out whenever you want, Quinn,” he informs her casually. “You want to stop here and now? Then tell me your word and use it.”

“My word…is, um. I don’t remember what it used to be. Did I ever have a word? Uh…okay, it’s Loki.” Quinn’s whispered to Bucky before, when she woke up from a bad dream about what he did to her, about how she’s been brainwashed before, too. So, if that bastard’s name is ever said in the bedroom, it wouldn’t be for a nice reason.

“You wanna use it?” This is the moment where she can back out. She hesitates and thinks about it some more. Finally, she shakes her head. “Okay. And let me lay this out now—I know I don’t have to do this, but I want to. I want to treat you nice. This is my choice. Let me have this, okay?” She takes a deep breath and nods. He spreads his legs wide and pats the open space between them. “Come sit in my lap, sweetheart.”

Quinn puts a knee on the bed and watches him with eyes that slowly start to darken with lust. “What about Steve?” He crooks a finger and she drops down to her hands and knees so she can crawl toward him. Bucky struggles more than he should to keep his eyes locked with hers and not watch the way her body sways as she moves.

“What? You think I can’t take the two of you on?” Quinn tries to settle down _between_ his legs, but he stops her before she can. He doesn’t want that now. He has an idea. He manhandles her around until she straddles one of his thighs. “Even if I couldn’t—but I _can_ , so you know—Steve knows it’s about you today. He’ll be a good little boy for me. If he’s not, I’ll turn that cute little ass of his red.” The tone of his voice, the thick Brooklyn drawl, is almost as natural as Russian. He hasn’t used it, but it fits like an old, comfortable shirt. It also tells Quinn that he’s settled in his role now and that she can do the same. “You won’t cause me no kind of trouble, will you, baby doll?”

She ducks her head down, bashful, and her straw blonde hair falls to cover her face briefly. She tucks some of it behind her ear, sucks her bottom lip between her teeth, and then tilts her head up the littlest bit to stare at him with half-lidded eyes. “No, Daddy,” she whispers hoarsely and yet it fits on him as comfortably as his Brooklyn accent.

“Oh, honey,” he breathes out and moves his hand around to the back of her neck so he can pull her in for a heated kiss. Fuck, he hopes he doesn’t pass out from how fast blood rushed down to his dick when that name came out of her mouth. “Oh, darlin’, you need it bad, don’t you? You don’t break that out near as much as you should.”

It isn’t incestuous, the reason behind the name. Neither of them have any kind of daddy issues. From what little Bucky remembers about his family, his father was a good man. Quinn idolized her own pa, too. The best way he can describe the reason why they both secretly love the title is that it’s an ideal he aspires toward when Quinn submits. He wants to keep her safe and warm, to nurture her the way she does all the time with other people, to discipline her if she’s a brat and that happens a lot in and out of the bedroom, and to most of all love her unconditionally. She trusts him to do that for her now and—he’s said it once but he probably won’t stop—that’s an _honor_. More of an honor than she could ever realize.

Quinn’s hands drop down to her lap and her eyes move down with them. “I do need it,” she admits quietly and her cheeks flush in embarrassment. “I need _you_ , Daddy,” she adds and reaches out to fiddle with the hem of his shirt as she finally lifts her eyes up to lock with his own.

“Holy shit,” Steve croaks from the doorway. Quinn immediately tenses back up and whips her head around to look over her shoulder at him with wide eyes. Her whole face starts to turn cherry red and she starts to move, but stops when Steve throws the towel that’d been around his waist to the side. He’s as hard as Bucky is. “Quinn,” he breathes out and drops a knee on the bed.

When Steve crawls toward them and reaches a hand out to Quinn, Bucky quickly barks out, “Stop.” Steve’s eyes, dark with desire, suddenly become more alert and he immediately stops in his tracks. He watches Bucky, hesitant about what he did wrong. Quinn turns her head back around to look at him, too. “I didn’t say you could touch her, did I?” Steve moves to his knees and nearly mimics Quinn’s pose—hands in his lap but doesn’t play with himself. Good. He remembers what Bucky likes when they do this.

“No,” Steve answers slowly.

“No, I didn’t,” Bucky confirms. “You stay there and look pretty until I decide when you can play with our baby girl. You need to be a good example for her. Been a while since she’s done this, but I know it hasn’t been that long for you. Sometimes, I think you’d drop down on your knees for anyone that bossed you around.”

“Never, Bucky. You know that. Only you and Quinn,” Steve promises.

“Good answer,” Bucky praises with a dark chuckle. He then turns his attention back to Quinn and snatches her chin to force her to stare only at him now. “C’mere,” he demands softly and pulls her down so her lips slot over his. He reaches down with his hand to tug her closer to his chest and with the position that she’s in, her pussy rubs against his thick thigh. It tells him how turned on she is because the hornier she is, the more hypersensitive she becomes, so the rough material of his jeans and the drag over her clit makes her whine high in the back of her throat. “Oh. You like that, don’t you?” He worries her bottom lip between his teeth for a moment. “You think you could get yourself off if I let you rub up against me?”

A shiver runs down through her whole body. “Bucky, that’s cruel—”

“C’mon, let’s find out, huh?” He tugs at the hem of her sensible panties, releases, and they snap against her skin. She hisses quietly at the brief sting. “Strip down.” Her brows furrow and she doesn’t move to follow the order. So, he moves his hand down to settle over her pussy. Before she realizes what he’s up to, he pinches the material between his fingers so he can then tug up. The panties, now a thick strip of material, rub meanly against her clit and she yelps in surprise. “What’d I say?” He hisses and then, with an authoritative tone, repeats, “Strip down.”

Quinn groans—because she’s frustrated or turned on, he’s not sure, and maybe it’s both—but complies. She quickly pulls her sports bra up and over her head and then moves around so she can awkwardly take her panties off, too. He almost wants to strip down himself, only so he can feel her pussy, warm and wet against his leg, but decides against it. Instead, he settles back against the headboard more comfortably and waves a hand toward her. Go ahead for her to start.

She huffs and he can see the red on her cheeks start to travel down, across her pale skin. Full body blusher, same as Steve. It has to be that pale Irish skin of theirs. She thrusts against his thigh a few times, getting a feel for the sensation of rough denim against her soft pussy, and she softly whimpers. Her hands clutch his shoulders for leverage and after a few more times, she stops and shakes her head. “Bucky, I don’t want to do this. I’m too sensitive and it _hurts_ ,” she complains with a pout. He knows exactly what she tries to do with that pout. Jesus, how’d he end up with two brats in the bedroom?

“Or maybe you’re too lazy to work for it,” he retorts and she only pouts more. “That what it is? You want to lay back and make Daddy do all the work for you? Fine. Steve can do it for me. He’s my good boy, ain’t he?” He dumps her to the side and she squeaks. She watches warily as Bucky unbuckles his belt and tugs it free and then her eyes widen when he wraps the belt around her wrists. “Stay there and watch Steve do it right. You even put a dent in that belt and I’ll break it across your ass, understand?”

Steve’s probably even more sensitive than Quinn and looks as hesitant to do it as she did, but he obeys Bucky’s silent command when he pats the thigh Quinn had been on. Steve loops his arms around Bucky’s shoulders and presses close so his cock is trapped between their bodies. Quinn shifts so that she’s in the same position Steve was, on her knees, tied wrists in her lap. He notices how she clenches her thighs closer together. Steve groans on the first thrust and discomfort flashes across his face. Bucky slaps his ass and it makes Steve yelp and jerks forward so his cock rubs against the rough fabric again.

“Good, baby boy,” Bucky croons when Steve starts to slowly thrusts. “So good,” he can’t help but praise when Steve tilts his head back to moan. He has to be oversensitive, but Steve’s always gotten off on a little pain with his pleasure. Bucky leans forward to wrap his lips around one of Steve’s nipples and bite down gently.

Eventually, Steve’s rhythm starts to falter. “Bucky,” he cries out and his arms that are still around Bucky’s neck pull Bucky closer. Bucky can’t resist when Steve shoves his tits in Bucky’s face and he only starts to pay more attention to them. It doesn’t help Steve’s case. “Can I—”

“Of course, sweetheart,” he answers. “Come anytime you want. That’s what you deserve for bein’ such a good boy for me.” Steve’s also always gotten off on praise, so he immediately tenses and moans loudly as his dick shoots off between their bodies. Streaks of white stain Bucky’s shirt. Bucky collects some of the come on his shirt and holds it out for Quinn to look at. “See that?” He pushes his fingers into her mouth and she groans around it, eagerly laps at the come. Bucky suddenly remembers how much of a dirty fucker he is. “That’s what happens when you listen to me. You can come.”

“Maybe that was my dastardly plan the whole time. Maybe I don’t care about me. Maybe I don’t wanna come,” she retorts hoarsely after she leans away from his hand to speak clearly. “Maybe I want to make you and Steve come.”

Quinn doesn’t seem to understand the rules anymore. “Oh, but baby doll, bad girls don’t get what they want,” he explains sweetly and there’s this brief second where horror flashes across her face. It dawns on her the mistake she made. “They get punished.”

Quinn’s successfully backed herself into a corner here and she knows it, so she instinctively starts to strain against the belt tied around her wrists. Bucky drops his eyes down to it then looks back up at her with a raised brow. She immediately flushes with embarrassment and stops squirming. He can see her try to think of a way out of this, but she should already know that’s not how this works. There isn’t a way out. He smirks smugly and she stares at him with those wide blue eyes while he leans forward to reach his hand under her ass and haul her back over to him. She whines, but that’s the most of a fuss she kicks up as he then pushes her down on her back. He thinks that _maybe_ she’s started to let him take over…

…or so he thinks, but then she raises her tied hands up over her head. Since she’s flat on her back now, it pushes her chest out and his attention is pulled to her tits. She bends her knees, pulls them up toward her body so it hides her pussy from their line of sight. The dirty cheat, she wants to play coy. But that’s too bad for her because this only makes her look even tastier and he’s about to eat her out until she comes at least a few times.

“What about Steve?” she drawls. “Gonna let him suffer? I can treat you both _real_ nice, Daddy.” Then, she pouts. Juts her bottom lip out. Like he said, she’s a cheater. “Won’t you let me have what I want and make you and Steve come over and over and over?”

Steve and Quinn have been married too long. When Steve smiles down at her, syrupy sweet, it’s exactly the same that she does. “I don’t mind to watch,” he chirps helpfully and Bucky snorts in amusement when her whole expression crumbles.

Quinn’s eyes move up to the canopy above their heads and to no one in particular, she whispers in horror, “Oh _God_ , there’s two of them now.”

“Bucky’s the boss,” Steve replies. He momentarily breaks the rules to lean down and kiss her on the cheek sweetly. “I’m only here to watch you suffer.” He bites at the lobe of her ear with a dark chuckle. “Let’s say it’s payback for all those times you were mean to me in bed.”

“Brat,” she snaps.

“Pot,” Bucky interrupts and motions back and forth between the two of them, “meet kettle.” She rolls her eyes and Bucky wonders if she’s still stuck in a bad mood or if she means to be a brat on purpose for the thrill of it. “You think you can keep your hands to yourself or do I need to have Steve hold them down for me?” There’s no answer and she doesn’t even look at him. Bucky trails his hand across her knee, up her inner thigh, and he can feel her shiver as he closes in on her pussy. Still, she doesn’t answer. “You want to be like this?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” she mutters.

Bucky sighs in disappointment. “Okay. Be that way then. Steve, hold her down.”

There’s suddenly this…uneasiness on Steve’s face. He stares down at Quinn and then looks over at Bucky, hesitant. He opens his mouth to protest, but Quinn throws her arms at his chest. “I can handle it fine,” she tells him gruffly. Her jaw’s clenched and her eyes blaze with determination. She thinks that Steve thinks she can’t handle it. Bucky realizes that he should’ve told Steve to do it in a different way because of what’s happened to her in the past.

“Tell Steve your safe word,” Bucky demands.

Quinn sighs in exasperation, but says, “Loki.” She tilts her head back a little to narrow her eyes at Steve. “Don’t treat me with the kid gloves, Rogers.”

And, of course, that makes him defensive. “Quinn, it isn’t like that—”

Once again, Bucky has to wonder how the fuck he ended up with two brats in the bedroom. With a roll of his eyes, he reaches over to snatch the panties Quinn had taken off that are still on the bed, balls them up, and reaches forward to shove them in Quinn’s mouth. Steve’s mouth, Bucky has plans for, but he snarls at Steve, “ _Be quiet_.” Steve, eyes wide, smartly snaps his mouth shut. Bucky looks down at Quinn and her eyes are hot with either lust or defiance or probably both. “Y’know, you said you wouldn’t cause trouble, Quinn. What happened to that?”

Quinn tries to talk past the fabric in her mouth, but it’s muffled. With the way she stares up at Steve, she probably wants to put the blame on him. Jesus, hot heads, the both of them. Steve scowls at her, knows exactly what she means, but thankfully listens to Bucky’s order and doesn’t talk back. Not much use in it, anyway.

Bucky closes his eyes to collect his patience before he pulls off his shirt and _that_ shuts them both up real fast. He has to fend off a brief moment of self-consciousness over the stump, but Steve and Quinn don’t seem to mind one bit. They look at him like they’re about to devour him alive. Funny, because he’s about to do the same to them.

He reaches out to force her legs apart so that he can move over to kneel between them. The blush is back, settled high on her cheeks, and she shyly avoids his gaze when he makes eye contact with her. She has always hated to be the center of attention, especially in such an intimate way. He drops down onto his belly and shoulders her thighs apart a little bit more to make himself some room before he’s finally in a comfortable spot. Then, he looks at her. She’s so damn beautiful, every inch of her, and that’s what he croons to her softly, so of course she squirms uncomfortably.

Briefly, he thinks about if he wants to tease her or not. Tries to remember from the war if there were any tricks to make her drop quicker. Then, he wonders why they didn’t do this more, but he remembers that she only ever went to him when she was most upset or felt most out of control. The very last time they’d done it was after she’d seen a crew of men from Hazard while the Commandos passed through an Allied camp. Steve and Bucky would’ve killed those fuckers in their beds, the boys at their backs and Dum-Dum even offered Bucky his brass knuckles, but Quinn had cried in shame between Steve and Bucky near through the whole night. It was a week after that, when they were back in London, and Bucky didn’t put two and two together until she was back down from the high.

Well, _shit_. No wonder she’s acted out after she promised to be good for Bucky earlier. She wants to be punished here. Damn, he almost fell for it, too. Okay, this is fine. That’s completely and totally fine. He’d rather be sweet on her, anyway. Be tender with her. He knows what she wants, but this is about what she needs, and more than anything in the world, what she needs is some love.

“Steve,” Bucky murmurs as he presses a kiss to the inside of her thigh and she shivers. “Touch her whenever you want to, sweetheart. You don’t need to hold her down.” He proceeds to pepper kisses on almost every inch of skin on her inner thighs, getting so close to where she wants him that he can smell the heady scent of her sex, but he always skirts away. She whimpers quietly at first and then whines, getting louder every time he comes close and backs away. Thankfully, Steve still has one hand locked around her wrists. Bucky leans his body against one of her legs and grips the other with his flesh one because she’s started to squirm even more, trying to hook her legs around his neck. “Stop bein’ impatient,” he warns quietly, but she squirms more and more.

Finally, after Bucky leans away completely, Quinn understands that things won’t move the way she wants them to unless she cooperates. She takes a deep breath of frustration, releases, and her entire body slumps against the mattress. “Good, baby girl,” he praises softly. To reward her, he leans forward to kiss the center of her. He can feel her tense up and twitch, but he can’t hold it too much against her. They’ve told Bucky about the ADHD.

Jesus, he remembers how much he loved to do this. He remembers how much he loves the taste of her. How receptive she is to every little touch. Since she has a super soldier serum now, the sensitivity is probably a hundred times worse—or better, but it depends on who you ask. She’s turned on, real turned on, because she only shivers the way she’s started to when she’s close. He hasn’t even really started, only barely picked up the pace of where he sucks gently on her clit and licks into her, but she’s slowly but surely tensing up. He glances up to see what Steve’s preoccupied with and his mouth is around one of her nipples. Not a surprise his mouth is full. Oral fixation, he swears Steve has one.

Quinn’s shout when she comes is muffled, but he’s not sure he’d hear it anyway when the snap of his belt echoes across the room. Steve must’ve moved his hand to play with whatever wasn’t in his mouth, so her hands were somewhat free. She was so lost in the moment that she didn’t pay attention to the earlier rule that the belt needed to stay intact. When the orgasm hits, Quinn tries to curl in on herself, what she always does when she comes, but the sight of her lost in pleasure makes him lose it a little. He only has one hand, but he uses it to force her flat back against the mattress and goes at her a little like a mad dog.

It doesn’t take but a second for Quinn to realize that Bucky won’t slow down. She tries to talk past the panties, realizes they’re there, and reaches to take them. Steve catches her before she does and shoves her wrists back above her head, so all she can do is let out a muffled shout. She’s too damn sensitive, he knows, and this has to burn, but damn, he can’t help himself here. Her back arches in an attempt to squirm away and recover, but he digs his fingers into her skin and pulls her closer. He wishes he could shove her full of his fingers, then and there, surprise her enough to push her over the edge, but he only has one hand and needs to hold her down. He can’t order Steve to do it because she’ll lose the burn. He’s mean as hell, he knows it, but, fuck, he loves this too much. He licks at her faster, shakes his head, really puts his all into it—as if he doesn’t ever do that. Above him, she sobs, but her trembling thighs lock around his head. That’s it. She’s almost there. He moans in pleasure at the taste of her and that’s the push she needs to come a second time.

Bucky moves back to his knees and wipes his mouth off with the back of his hand. He watches as Steve makes her release his wrist that she’d held onto and winces a little in sympathy at the marks she left behind. Steve, however, doesn’t care because he’s always loved pleasure with a bit of pain. Steve’s hands move down to carefully wipe away the tears that slide down Quinn’s cheeks. Bucky doesn’t know if it’s because of the sensation overload or because she’s emotional—he wouldn’t put it past her if it was both. She tilts her head away from Steve’s hands so she can shove her face in the crook of her elbow. And since Bucky’s moved out of the way now, she can finally curl up, and her whole body shakes with the aftershocks.

He drops down next to her, curls a hand around her hip to turn her more toward him, and blankets the front of her with his body to warm her up. Steve presses up to her back and plants kisses up and down her neck and shoulder, wherever he can reach. Bucky reaches up to take the panties out of her mouth before he nuzzles against her cheek. “Good?” he checks.

Quinn’s arms move around Bucky’s shoulders and she shoves her face in the crook of his neck. “ _Bucky_ ,” she pleads. What she wants exactly, Bucky’s not really sure of. “Bucky. _Please_.” She finally pulls her face out of his neck so she can crush her lips to his. “I need you,” she finally explains. Her nails slide across his shoulders and he hisses in pleasure. “I need you inside me.”

“You finally decide to play nice, you little spitfire?” He playfully bites at her bottom lip.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t good before,” she apologizes softly but no less seriously and shocks Bucky. There’s no playful comment of any type from her. No kind of bite. He moves his head away a little so he can _really_ look at her.

Oh. _Oh_. She’s almost there, isn’t she? It didn’t even take that much. Bucky noticed that she always went nonverbal when she started to drop. “Oh, sweetheart,” he croons. “You know I can’t stay mad at you. Not when you’re so damn sweet for me.” He kisses her sweetly and she sighs softly. “Jesus, I’d do whatever you ask.”

“Fuck me.” It says a lot that she doesn’t demand that.

“How about you let Steve have a turn?”

Quinn pretty much takes that as an order and turns over so her back is now to Bucky. Steve smiles crookedly, but she doesn’t smile back. Instead, she kisses him and her arms move around his shoulders. She clutches onto him, same way she did Bucky. Between kisses, she says, “I’m sorry about today,” and, “I love you.”

Steve rolls them over so she’s pressed underneath him. “No. No, you don’t have to do that. Leave it alone for now, okay?” She accepts that and nods. There’s this…bewilderment on his face and Bucky knows it’s because of the lack of back talk. “Fuck, I love you,” he whispers and kisses her fiercely. One of his hands move down her body while the other reaches up to fist some of her hair. She whines, hot for it. “How do you want it?”

“However you want to let me have it,” she answers. “So long as it’s from both of you, I’ll take it.” Then, something peculiar happens when he tries to reach up to touch his cheek. His fingers drag across her skin, but when he reaches her neck, her breath hitches and her eyes flutter shut. She tilts her head to the side a little. She did that earlier, when he pressed his hand to the base of her neck, but he didn’t think she liked it _that_ much. Apparently, he was wrong.

Steve pauses and shifts around so he leans up on an elbow. Gently, he places his hand around her throat. Doesn’t squeeze. “Like this?”

Quinn presses her head back into the pillow which makes her neck press more up into his hand. “Yeah,” she answers breathlessly. “Yeah, that’s—” she moans, loud, long, and shocked as Steve suddenly slides inside her. Bucky frowns. She could’ve used more prep. Steve probably realizes that and pauses to let her adjust. “Steve,” she gasps and tries to move her arms back around his shoulders.

Hand still around her throat, Steve uses that to push her back down on the mattress, and Quinn cries out in pleasure at the move. He shifts around so he’s on his knees between her parted thighs and grabs one to hike it up around his waist. Her hands drop down to clutch at his hips and the motion pushes her tits together, so Steve roughly grabs one. Bucky’s not sure if it’s supposed to be to turn her on or to get a little more leverage when he snaps his hips against hers, but whatever it’s meant to do, it sure as fuck turns Bucky on. There’s something intoxicating about Steve taking control in the bedroom. Exotic, he supposes, because it’s rare for Steve to do it.

If it turns Bucky on, it sure as hell has to turn Steve and Quinn on even more. A shame that Steve can’t keep it up—not this early in the game. The first orgasm always takes the edge off for Steve, sure, but Steve would have to come a few more times before he doesn’t shoot off quick. He’s the most sensitive between the three of them. Bucky loved to exploit it mercilessly before the war, during it, and would love to do it now if the main priority today wasn’t Quinn.

Bucky’s know he’s said it a million times before, but he’ll say it another time—Steve and Quinn are a damn masterpiece when they’re wrapped up in each other. The muscles of Steve’s back ripple as he thrusts inside her. The freckles sprinkled across Quinn’s cheeks stand out more as her face flushes pink from the exertion. Steve finally moves his hand away from her throat because he couldn’t keep it there even if she pleaded him to because she’s too sweet and Steve’s top instinct is to protect his soulmates. Steve leans down to blanket her body with his own and, at the same time, laces his fingers with hers. His other hand he uses to grab her thigh and hike it back up against his waist and holds it there while his thrusts slow down. Steve’s rubbing up on her right now because she sobs and her free hand shoots up to clutch his shoulder hard. They come nearly at the same time—Quinn’s eyes a little wet again before she squeezes them shut as her body locks up and she shouts, Steve pushing inside her one last time so hard it pushes her up the bed before he shoves his face in the crook of her neck and groans. Bucky’s blessed to see it.

Steve rolls away from Quinn when Bucky crawls over to drop down beside Quinn again. Before he does, he makes sure to kiss Steve so filthily that Steve knows it’s a promise for Bucky and Quinn to take him apart when she’s better. Then, Bucky’s attention moves down to Quinn. Her eyes haven’t opened back up and her chest heaves up and down, but she’s relaxed. It looks like she’s about to melt into a puddle. There’s no tension to her. Bucky moves some hair plastered against her sweat-slick skin away from her forehead and smiles fondly at her when she blinks.

“How you feel?” Bucky inquires.

It takes a lot more time than normal for her to focus on him. “Good,” she answers honestly and slumps more into the mattress, as if she could possibly be any more relaxed. “Great,” she adds. She reaches up to run the tips of her fingers across his cheek. “I want you inside me now, Bucky.”

“Whatever you want, sweetheart.” He turns his head to the side so he can kiss the center of her palm. “Turn over on your side.”

One of those secrets that Bucky’s kept from Steve and Quinn since they came to Wakanda is that he’s so damn desperate for physical touch. He’s starved. So, when he’s finally completely naked, Quinn’s heated skin flush to his, he almost breaks down and cries in relief. He swears to God the warmth sinks down into his bones. He never knew how cold he was without them. God, it’s been seventy years since he’s had this. He loves her. He loves Steve. Before Bucky knew who the fuck he was, he only ever knew them. They could never take these two away from him—not completely.

There’s no resistance when Bucky moves inside Quinn. She’s wet from Steve’s come and relaxed, but more heat envelopes him, and he almost comes on the spot, so maybe he shouldn’t talk about Steve. At this very second, Steve has more stamina than Bucky does. He pauses to take a deep breath and pull her closer to his chest. Quinn’s dropped now, so doesn’t try to push him to move. Instead, she sighs contentedly and laces her fingers with his flesh ones. He’s a little happy he doesn’t have the metal arm because he wouldn’t be able to feel this, not completely.

Bucky bites down on the back of her neck to stifle the noise when he finally starts to move. A reflex from decades past when they always had to be careful to hide from the world. Quinn’s quiet, too—except the soft moans and whimpers when he hits that perfect spot inside her. For a little bit, she turns her face to bury it in the covers, and she clenches the sheets so hard they actually rip. Smartly, Steve settles in close to take her attention away from the sheets they’ll need when they’re done and will be too fucked out to change. Her sounds are quickly swallowed up by Steve when his mouth meets hers.

The last time that Quinn comes, it’s with a hoarse shout against Steve’s mouth, and tears stream down her cheeks. Her hand flies back to grab at Bucky’s ass and try to pull him deeper inside her. Bucky shoves inside as far as he can go and comes inside her, just like that. He stays inside until he softens up and has no choice but to pull out. He knows Quinn’s too exhausted to do anymore with them, so he has to force himself not to look down where his come and Steve’s probably slide down her inner thighs.

The tears don’t stop for a few minutes. When Steve or Bucky try to pull away from her, she makes a distressed noise, and pulls them back to where they were. Bucky’s not the only one desperate for some physical contact right now.

“I love you,” she tells them both. “I love you so much.”

“You know we love you, too,” Bucky reassures her and kisses her temple. Then, softly, he commands, “Go to sleep, Quinn. We’ll both be here when you wake up.”

 


	5. France (Steve and Bucky's POV)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had either one very dedicated person or multiple people request: _"omg old world romance is just about to kill me here. i would give you just about anything you want if I could read the boys POV for when they save quinn from the Nazis up until that conversation she has with steve in the hospital. i've gotta know! do you want my firstborn? done. my left leg? done."_  
>  Funny story! I was actually going to have the original chapter in Steve and Bucky's POV, but I got stuck on it, deleted it all, and thus left it in Quinn's POV. It's amazing how much easier it was to write since I had the original chapter to guide me.  
> Also, I didn't quite go up to the point in the hospital, but I can assure you that not much really happens. The boys never once leave her side until a doctor and the Commandos force them to leave.

Today hasn’t been much of a victory for the team. Hydra may’ve been taken down quickly and efficiently, but the fellas are a lot more toned down than they usually are. When she’s mad, Quinn sure as hell knows how to make a person feel like they’re less than shit. The only Commando that doesn’t look like a kicked puppy is probably Bucky, but he’s been mean as hell instead. Bucky’s only ever been this mad after Steve pulls a spectacularly stupid stunt. Guess it’s a little nice that Steve’s not the one in trouble this time. Or maybe, like Steve and the rest of the team, Bucky’s not really mad at Quinn—he’s mad at himself because they’ve all let Quinn down here today. Of course, that doesn’t mean Bucky will act like he’s the one at fault here. He never does.

Since Jim is the only medic with them right now, he checks on the prisoners they’ve saved. While he does that, Gabe and Dernier try to pick around and find some useful information they can take back to the SSR. There weren’t any officers here, so they must’ve scrammed before the Commandos made it here. Monty and Dum-Dum are on the hunt for another truck to hotwire since they only brought the one and they don’t have the room to fit all these prisoners in to take them back to the town.

There’s not much more Steve can do except talk to Bucky. He heads around to the back of the factory where he knows Bucky is holed up at. Bucky’s eyes are set off in the distance and he takes a drawl from his smoke every now and then. He takes one look at Steve and freezes. His hand twitches, but he stops before he can act on the instinct to put the smoke out which is what he always did back in Brooklyn. Sometimes, Bucky still thinks that Steve has that same shitty body that came before the serum. Bucky thinks he needs to sneak out on the fire escape when he wants to smoke. Steve’s still never told Bucky he used to have his own pack hidden underneath his mattress. He never went through them the way Bucky did, but they were still there.

Steve, in desperate need of a smoke himself, steals the lit one Bucky has in hand. Steve takes a few drags and can see Bucky’s lips thin out of the corner of his eyes. Steve doesn’t miss the look and turns to stare at Bucky head on while he sucks in another breath.

“Sometimes,” Bucky starts slowly, “I wonder exactly who the fuck I pissed off upstairs to end up with two of the most stubborn asses for soulmates.”

“Beats the hell outta me,” Steve answers with fake cheer. “Ask myself the same question, y’know,” he adds because if Bucky doesn’t think he’s not stubborn as hell too then he’s a damn liar. He _has_ to be stubborn to deal with both Steve _and_ Quinn.

“Nowhere near as bad as you and that dame of yours,” Bucky sneers and reaches over to snatch back the smoke out of Steve’s hand.

Steve snorts. “What? You’re mat at her and suddenly she’s _my_ dame? She ain’t anyone’s dame and shame on you for thinkin’ otherwise.”

When Bucky stares out in the distance, there’s a brief moment of despair on his face. “You two will be the death of me,” he whispers under his breath like Steve still has a bum ear and can’t hear him. “What? Are you on her side now?” He turns his whole body so he faces Steve. “You want to make me feel like I’m the scum of the earth, too? We followed orders, Steve, that’s what we do. Quinn needs to step in line.”

Steve squeezes his eyes shut and tries to collect his patience. “I can’t believe _I_ have to be the reasonable one here. You and Quinn think it’s that simple, but it’s not. It ain’t about sides. Yeah, we had to follow orders, but—okay. Look, we could’ve stopped to help those people out.”

Bucky squares his jaw and Steve’s patience has run thin. Bucky has the audacity to say that Steve loves to throw fists over the littlest shit. “Where are we headed now, Steve? Just like we told Quinn, we’re headed back to that town to help the people out. How many lives did we save here today, huh?”

Steve’s annoyed and so his mouth runs before he can catch it. “Don’t pretend you were in it to save people today. You’ve been obsessed with putting one between Zola’s eyes since I busted you out of Azzano.” Emotion instantly vanishes from Bucky’s face and Steve knows he stepped over the line with that. He takes a deep breath. “Look, Buck, I’m s—”

“It wasn’t only me that Zola did dirty,” Bucky shoots back darkly. “That’s what her bad dream was about, you know that? That’s why she scratched herself bloody. I wake up sometimes with that same itch. It was where Zola would run his little knife over our skin. Wanted to—I don’t know. The sick fuck probably loved to watch her squirm.” Steve winces.

Steve’s pretty successfully shoved his foot in his mouth and Bucky probably doesn’t want to hear a sorry from Steve, so he snaps his mouth shut. There’s not much more he can say to that, anyway. He realizes that he really has no idea what his soulmates have dealt with in this war—before the war too, in Quinn’s case. Steve’s sort of happy when he hears Dum-Dum shout his and Bucky’s names. He pokes his head around the corner and can see Dum-Dum and Monty sprint toward them. The rest of the Commandos are hot on their tails but thankfully look as confused as Steve and Bucky probably do.

Okay, Bucky may not be confused. He’s probably in an even worse mood since Steve talked to him. So, he storms past Steve and snaps at Dum-Dum, “Goddamn it, you mook, would you keep it down? What the hell is the matter with you?”

“We have a problem, chaps,” Monty talks before Dum-Dum and everyone else takes attention. When Monty says there’s a problem then there’s a real problem. “We know where those pesky officers have scampered off to.”

Steve frowns at them, confused. “There weren’t any officers here.”

“Oh no, Captain, there were officers, but the bloody cowards were hidden away like rats. They waited for us to have our backs turned before they stole away our truck.” Steve’s not sure they can steal a truck that the Commandos technically wanted to steal from them.

“Cap, Sarge,” Dum-Dum interrupts. “They’re headed back to the town.”

“ _Quinn_ ,” Steve and Bucky both breathe out at the same time before they make a mad scramble past everyone and head to the truck.

\---

They didn’t have time to take every prisoner with them. Steve doesn’t have time to feel selfish about the decision to leave those men behind. They’ll come back after they’ve made sure Quinn is safe. If she is safe, she’ll have a fit when she finds out what they did. What few men that they saved from Hydra that they do have in the truck slowly start to trickle out of the back when they stop in the middle of the town.

Steve, Bucky, the Commandos, and the men they saved look around the town for any hint of life. When they first rolled into town, women had slowly started to come out, one by one, before they came in a wave when they realized it wasn’t Hydra. That doesn’t happen now. But, at the very least, there aren’t any bodies out in the street. Steve’s traitorous brain butts in and reminds Steve that Quinn could’ve corralled the townspeople into one of the houses or shops and that may’ve made it worse for the lot of them because they wouldn’t have any other place to run when Hydra found them.

His heart’s in his throat. One of these doors could open and his soulmate’s body could be there on the other side. He’d felt this way when he saved Bucky in Italy, but he saw Bucky’s chest rise and fall, could hear his voice. Steve’s seen dead bodies in this war, but he doesn’t think he could handle it if he had to see Quinn’s—no. No, he can’t think that way. Quinn’s smart and resourceful and wouldn’t let Hydra best her that way.

There’s a quick movement out of the corner of Steve’s eye, from the little alleyway between the church and a house. “The church,” Steve shouts to the Commandos and waves for them to follow. He raises his shield, in case it isn’t a friendly that waits on the other side for them. As it turns out, he doesn’t need it, because a flood of women, kids, and the elderly pour out of the little church. They must’ve decided it was okay to come out when they saw it wasn’t Hydra. The street booms with sudden noise as loved ones are reunited with each other.

Bucky moves to Steve’s side and his hand briefly brushes past Steve’s. That brief touch provides Steve the bravery he needs to move inside the church once everyone clears out. Gave comes in with them to be a translator. Quinn hasn’t come out yet, but she could’ve very well stayed behind to help with the wounded. They stop in the chapel, look around, but she isn’t there. No one is left—no. Wait. There _is_ someone else. There is a lot of someone actually. Their hushed voices float in from…the back?

Steve locates the door, hidden away near the back of the chapel. When he opens it, there are women huddled around the one who Quinn had taken as her own translator. That woman has a baby in her arms, she’s drenched in sweat, and she looks exhausted beyond belief—which he can understand why because she definitely hadn’t delivered her baby before the Commandos left. The second that they come in the door, she removes the hand from over her baby’s mouth that she’d used to muffle its screams, and the baby sucks in a breath before it shrieks.

Gabe bends down to pick up—is that Quinn’s medical pack? Bucky takes it from Gabe and peeks inside and, yeah, there’s her chocolate stash hidden at the bottom. “Gun isn’t here,” Bucky points out quietly and Steve wants to curse so bad but doesn’t because there are ladies and a newborn baby present in the room.

Gabe starts to throw question after question at the women while he points at Quinn’s pack. There haven’t exactly been smiles on their faces, yeah, but whatever Gabe says has them duck their heads. One of the women, an old one, stands to her feet and approaches them. She starts to answer Gabe’s questions and Gabe tenses up.

“Simone here went into labor around the time Hydra rolled back into town. They started to search the town. Got too close for comfort,” he explains and pauses. “Quinn used herself as a decoy to lure them away from here. She’s the reason this baby and everyone in this town isn’t dead. She went out that door.” He points at a nearby door. “She lured them away from the church and—” he sucks in a sharp breath at whatever the woman says next. “Shots were fired. It sounded like it came from down the street.”

Bucky’s already on his way out the door before Gabe can finish his sentence. Steve may not want to curse in front of the ladies, but Bucky doesn’t share that sentiment and talks so foully that it’d make a sailor blush. When he’s done, he snaps at Steve, “I’ll kill that woman myself.” As mad as he sounds, his face is pale and he looks sick—same as Steve. “Do you hear me Steve? If she’s not dead, I’ll kill her myself.”

There are tire tracks in the street, but there’s only one way in and out of the town, so Steve has no idea whether they’re from the Commandos truck or the Hydra truck. Plus, Quinn could very well still be inside the town. She could be hidden out in one of the houses or shops. They need to make their way down the main street, see if there’s any evidence of where she could’ve went to.

Dernier is the one to find the spot further down the street and it takes every ounce of Steve’s willpower not to panic at what they find. There’s blood sprayed across the dirt and stamped down, covered in blood and dirt, is the patch that every Commando wears. Bucky bends down to pick up the pistol and then, almost hesitantly, picks up the patch. It has to be Quinn’s because everyone else absentmindedly reaches to touch their own.

Steve suddenly realizes that, “Quinn’s still alive.” Kidnapped, he tries to remind himself, is always better than dead. They still have time to save her. “If they really did…kill her,” he bites out the word, “then there’d be a body for us to find. This,” he points at the patch, “is a taunt.”

“Whether she’s a nurse or not, Quinn knows a lot of top-secret stuff, especially about Steve. They could—” he stops but everyone hears _torture her_. “They’d be stupid to kill her. Even if she didn’t know any classified information, they could use her as a hostage.” He bends down to examine the dirt. “But she didn’t roll over and let them take her. She’s hurt.”

So they need to hurry the fuck up and find her. “Gabe, Frenchie, I want you two to stay here and try to see if you can reach the SSR or anyone that can send in some reinforcements. The rest of us, we’re headed after these fuckers. There’s only one road for miles. They can’t be too far ahead of us.

\---

It isn’t hard to catch up with Hydra since they’re stopped on the side of the road. Dum-Dum, to make sure that Hydra can’t immediately pinpoint them as the enemy, puts distance between their own truck and Hydra’s, but they don’t have much time. Steve was already confused to see them parked and he’s only more baffled when the soldiers move out of the back of the truck and stand around it.

Quinn, thank God, appears at the back of the truck, whole and alive. That relief quickly turns to dread because an officer has her hair fisted in his hand as he shouts at his platoon. Whatever he says makes the men cheer. Steve understands why they stopped and fury, white hot, cuts past any other emotion when the officer throws Quinn out of the back of the truck.

Dum-Dum is unusually quiet, but then he hisses, “You better leave that piece of shit alive so the rest of us can have a turn with him.” Then, he slams a hand behind him to let Monty and Jim know to load up.

“You’ll have to make do with what you have,” Bucky whispers as quietly as Dum-Dum. “There won’t be a scrap of him left.” Bucky’s rage is different than Steve’s. He’s always been calculated and cold when he’s mad whereas Steve’s always had a hot temper. Fire and ice—it’s a lot like what Steve and Bucky are, but one is no less deadly than the other.

The officer that has Quinn is smarter than his men because he barks orders and a few of them turn around to head toward the Commandos’ truck. Quinn, who has always been the bravest person he knows, spits in the officer’s face when he hauls her to her feet. He backhands her so hard that she’s immediately thrown back in the dirt and, darkly, Steve realizes that the officer is a stupid, dead man.

Steve doesn’t think he’s ever felt this kind of emotion before. No, he has—when he found out what’d happened to Quinn in Hazard. These men want to do that to her now. Back then, evil and vile men tried their best to break her down, tear her apart, and they didn’t win. Now…now, they won’t even have the chance. Quinn didn’t have him back then. Steve doesn’t think he’ll even need the shield. He’ll rip apart every one of them with his bare hands.

“Like Quinn says,” Dum-Dum starts as he throws open his door, “let’s raise some hell, fellas.”

Dum-Dum, Jim, and Monty are a nice distraction for Steve and Bucky. The two of them quickly drop down out of the passenger side door while Jim and Monty head up from the back to open fire with Dum-Dum. The officer that has Quinn knows his men’s numbers are up, so he tries to run. He heads into the forest and takes Quinn with him. Quinn kicks until she disappears out of their line of vision, but it isn’t hard to find her since she screams the whole time.

Like the coward that he is, when the officer realizes he has nowhere left to run, he puts his back to a tree and tucks Quinn in front of him. Steve quickly looks over Quinn and he can’t see any blood, but he can smell it. Her face is pale, her skin is lined with sweat, but she shivers—blood loss, he thinks. She must’ve been shot from the back and since he can’t see any blood from the front, the shot wasn’t clean. They’ll have to pick the shrapnel out of her.

A click catches Steve’s attention and he stops dead in his tracks. “Don’t take another step,” the officer warns and presses the barrel of his pistol to Quinn’s temple. Steve stops, but Bucky raises his own weapon. The second he has a window—and he doesn’t need a wide one—he’ll take the shot. “I’ll put a bullet in her pretty little head. I’m not afraid to blow your whore’s brains out.”

Hydra will burn for this. They’ll burn for what they’ve done to Steve’s soulmates. “Don’t make this any harder on yourself. Let her go.”

“I do that and you kill me,” he snaps back at Steve.

It must be clear on Steve’s face—that the Hydra officer won’t make it out of this alive. Steve could lie, but he’s shit at it, so he won’t bother. Instead, he wryly offers, “If you cooperate, we won’t make it as slow and painful as possible.”

“Then I think I’ll keep her here.” A hand locks around Quinn’s throat and Steve’s world becomes tinted with red. “I had hoped, you know, that my men and I would have more time to test her. I wanted so badly to split her open. She talks so much. I would have loved to hear her scream instead.” Steve has never so badly wanted to hurt another person as bad as he does now. Who the fuck does he think he is? Who is he to talk about Quinn that way? “I can settle, if you’re interested, _ja_? There are always sluts to fuck. What I don’t have is you, Captain. _Herr_ Schmidt would love to have America’s greatest treasure as his prisoner. We can trade. You for her.”

The wires in Steve’s brain cross for a second and he almost mourns how he won’t be able to hurt the officer, but Quinn is more important. “Fine,” he answers immediately. Steve will always put Quinn and Bucky before himself— _always_.

“Steve,” Bucky warns from next to him. And for the first time since Steve and Bucky showed up, Quinn visibly panics. Unfortunately, his soulmates would also always put their soulmates before themselves. “Steve,” Bucky repeats and catches Steve’s arm when he tries to walk forward. “You can’t do this.” Or maybe the reason for both Quinn and Bucky’s panic is because they’re both reasonable and know that it’s a shit move for Captain America to throw himself in Hydra’s arms so readily. Steve doesn’t care because if Quinn and Bucky are safe then he can deal with whatever Schmidt tries to throw at him.

“Steve,” Quinn croaks and winces when the other man’s hand squeezes harder around her throat. Steve lowers his arm, to drop the shield, and Quinn pleads, “Don’t do this. Leave me here. You understand?”

“No, Quinn.” He stares at her so that she knows he’s serious about this. He won’t leave her to the wolves this way. “I won’t leave you behind.”

Quinn’s entire body slumps in what Steve thinks is defeat and the Hydra asshole must think that, too. Steve misses it, she’s that quick. She throws her hands up, into his, and the unexpected move makes him fire off a round in the air. Steve and Bucky are too slow to react and Quinn’s still in the way. She throws her body back into the officer’s. Rather than try to run away, Quinn whirls around, snatches the man’s chin, and slams his head back against the bark over and over. He can hear her desperate, scared sounds as she does it. When there’s no more resistance left in his dead body, she stumbles back and he slumps down in the dirt at her feet.

Steve is already on the move when Quinn’s knees start to buckle. He throws his shield to the side and catches her in his arms before she hits the ground. Steve pulls her away from the corpse and Bucky fusses the short time it takes for him to gently ease her down into the dirt. Steve’s fury is quickly replaced with fear when he can look at her closely.

“Quinn?” Steve hesitantly questions but she doesn’t respond. He’s not even sure she’s conscious.

Bucky presses his hands on her cheeks and hisses. “Jesus fuck, she’s cold.”

Steve thinks that maybe she responds to that, so he touches her forehead and pleads, “Quinn, baby, c’mon, work with us here and open your eyes.” He doesn’t know if there’s any medical proof, but he feels like if her eyes are open then there’s more hope that she’ll make it out alive. Fuck. He can’t think this way. “Wake up. Look at me. Please.”

Steve’s shout startles her awake and her whole body twitches. Steve and Bucky both let out the breath they’d both sucked in. “Oh fuck, Quinn. You want to scare us to death, huh?” Bucky pushes some hair away from her sweat-slick skin. But as soon as she opens her eyes, they start to droop. “Hey, no,” Bucky snarls and her eyes snap open with a whine. “You have to stay awake for us. Got that, baby doll?”

They can’t stay here anymore. The more time they spend here with their thumbs up their asses, the closer to death she is. “Do I have t’?” Her speech slurs—bad, that’s definitely bad. Steve quickly scoops her back into his arms and starts the trek back the way they came from. They leave the shield behind.

“Yeah, you have to, you goddamn moron. I swear to Christ, Quinn, you’re stupider than Steve and that’s real fuckin’ stupid.”

Steve thinks she’s slipped back into unconsciousness, but then he whispers miserably, “’M sorry.” She pauses. “No one’s hurt?”

 _Of course_ she would be more worried about everyone else than herself. She’s been shot and has lost who knows how much blood and she doesn’t even think to put her needs before anyone else. “You’re hurt,” Steve can’t help but snap. All these years that Bucky’s dealt with Steve’s own reckless ambition to care about everyone else and Steve finally understands how frustrated Bucky must’ve been.

“…don’t count,” Quinn breathes out tiredly.

Steve doesn’t slow down, but he tucks her head underneath his chin and holds her closer. Quinn shoves her face in the crook of his neck and takes a deep breath. He’s scared. He doesn’t know what he’ll do without her if they can’t save her. In the year since she’s been with them, she’s carved a spot for herself in Steve’s heart and soul. He loves her. Goddamn it, he loves her and if she dies today, he’s not sure he can recover from the loss. This war has taken so much from everyone, but he doesn’t want it to take from him. It tried to take Bucky and now it wants to take Quinn.

Bodies litter the main road when Steve, Bucky, and a nearly unconscious Quinn make their way back to it. Dum-Dum already has the truck started back up and ready to roll out. Monty’s in the front with him, to make room for the three of them in the back probably. Jim rushes to escort them to the back of the truck where he smartly has both his and Quinn’s medical packs thrown on a bench, supplies spread out. Steve didn’t even see him take her pack from Gabe.

“Where was she shot?” Jim questions and both Steve and Bucky answer the best they can. It was definitely in her back somewhere. “Okay. On her stomach,” he demands and Bucky slams a fist on the side of the truck to tell Dum-Dum to move it. “Rip her jacket. We need to see the damage.” Now, it’s Steve’s turn to listen to orders, so he does what Jim commands.

As soon as her back is bared to them, Bucky’s face pales and, horrified, he whispers, “Mother, Mary, and Joseph.” Blearily, Steve thinks maybe it’s about time he says a prayer. There’s _so much blood_. It stains Steve’s hands from where he merely rips her jacket. Quinn’s blood is on his hands. He’s about to be sick.

Jim stays calm. “Help me wipe her down. I need to see where she’s been shot.” He actually tears off pieces of the clean side of her shirt and hands them some to help. When her skin is a little clearer, he can see that she’s been shot in her shoulder and down by her hip. “Bucky, you need to put pressure on the one I’m not working on. Steve, I’ll need you to hold her down. This’ll hurt…bad.”

Bucky takes the gauze that Jim hands him and presses down on her shoulder. It must wake Quinn up because she moves her head to watch Jim reach for a pair of tweezers. “Morphine,” she blurts and the sound from her takes them by surprise. “Fuck you. Want morphine,” she cries when Jim starts to move to the bullet wound down by her hip.

“I don’t have morphine,” Jim replies and his voice is strained. “You took all mine.”

Quinn tries to squirm away when Jim carefully slides the tweezers in the bullet hole, but she’s so weak that anyone without a super soldier serum could hold her down. So, when she knows she can’t move away from the pain, she starts to cry. Tears are a much more effective weapon.

“I know, sweetheart, I _know_ ,” Bucky whispers and touches her hair with a free hand. “I know it hurts. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, but we can’t save you now only to lose you to an infection later. I promise it’ll be over soon.”

Jim drops back to Japanese the entire time he tries to find the bullet. He curses and murmurs under his breath. It takes too much time, in Steve’s opinion, but he wouldn’t dare complain because he couldn’t do what Jim and Quinn do. Also, he’s worried sick because Quinn’s started to slowly go non-verbal. Then, Jim pulls back his hand and there’s the bullet.

“Thank fuck its one whole piece,” Jim breathes out. “How is she?”

At that moment, Dum-Dum turns the truck off, so it’s quiet— _too quiet_. “Stop it! Get back,” Steve shouts at Jim and swats Bucky away so he can turn Quinn over. He can’t hear her breathe. There’s no noise from her. No, no, no, no, no. “Quinn?” He presses his ear directly over her heart and he almost cries in relief because there is a beat—faint but there. No. Wait. It…it’s too slow. Dum-Dum and Monty come around to the back, but Steve yells, “Everyone shut the hell up!”

Then…it stops. There’s one last beat and it stops. “Her heart stopped.”

“What—”

“Her heart stopped, Jim,” Steve shouts. “ _Help her!_ ”

“Quinn,” Bucky chokes out and takes her face in his hands. “No, Quinn, you can’t do this. Don’t let it end this way.” Jim nearly throws them out of the way to start chest compressions. “Please,” Bucky whispers and touches his forehead to hers. “God,” he starts and pauses. Steve numbly watches a tear roll down Bucky’s cheek. “Don’t take her. I love her. Don’t take her away from me.”

Steve runs his hand in her hair and then reaches for her hand. He prays because that’s all he can do now. If Bucky, who hasn’t uttered a holy word since Steve found him in that Hydra factory, calls to God now then Steve should do the same. He feels twenty-years-old all over again. The first time Quinn almost died, Bucky and Steve had curled around each other, lost and confused about the poor person on their bodies, weak and powerless to help them. A super soldier isn’t worth shit here.

Quinn Esther Hayden—he’s traced the name on Bucky’s skin since he can’t reach his own. He knows that name now. He loves her. He hasn’t even had a chance to tell her that. He swears to God he’ll tell her. “I love you,” he whispers in the silence. “I love you, too.”

Someone must hear because that’s when Quinn sucks in a quiet, shaky breath and her heart, the one Steve loves, starts to beat, steady and true.

\---

The townspeople—those that the Commandos saved in the Hydra raid and those that Quinn saved—are crowded around the plane. Howard was somehow able to land it not too far from the town. There are doctors to meet the Commandos and put Quinn on a stretcher. They quickly hook her up to an IV for a blood transfusion. Peggy’s the one who volunteered.

“Some people wanted to talk to you two,” she explains. Gently, she brushes some hair away from Quinn’s face. “I can take care of her. There are some people that want to thank her for what she’s done here today.”

That old woman hobbles over before the doctors can take Quinn away on a stretcher, her elderly husband with her. Simone, her brand new baby, and her husband that Steve remembers they saved from the factory are behind the couple. There’s another woman, too.

“What is her name?” The old woman asks by way of Gabe.

“Quinn Esther Hayden,” Bucky answers proudly.

Simone steps forward and purses her lips as she looks down at her baby. “Quinn? _Non_ ,” she says and wrinkles her nose. She thinks some more, looks up at them, and then declares, “I name her Esther. She will know who saved her.”

The lone woman hands a silver locket to Bucky and speaks to Gabe for a few minutes. His eyes widen comically for a second before he cracks a smile. “That one in the middle is Adele,” Gabe starts to explain and Bucky opens the locket. Steve looks over his shoulder to see. “Quinn saved little Adele with some last minute surgery. Those two with her?” There are indeed two little boys on either side of Adele. “They’re Adele’s soulmates.”

Steve and Bucky are stunned by the revelation and Adele’s mother reaches out to take both their hands. There are tears in her eyes and she says something, but Gabe doesn’t translate it. Maybe…maybe some things would just get lost in translation, Steve thinks.

Lastly, the old couple hobbles to stand beside Quinn’s stretcher. The man places a hand on Quinn’s forehead and says something that definitely isn’t in French. When the woman places a necklace with the Star of David on the center of Quinn’s chest, Steve realizes her husband prays in Hebrew. The woman—Miriam, they later find out—leans down to kiss Quinn’s forehead and, in very broken English, whispers, “Safe travels.”


End file.
